Mastermind
by AGrayCat
Summary: When a severe change in lifestyle causes 2D's behavior to change, Noodle realizes that there may be more to him than meets the eye, a side of him that hasn't been seen since the fateful car crash that started Gorillaz. First Person POV: Noodle's perspective (after the prologue). 2Nu. OOC 2D.
1. Chapter 1

_Chapter 1: Prologue_

 _Disclaimer: I don't own Gorillaz_

 _WARNING: violence in this chapter_

The air was filled with warmth, dim light, and the soft chatter of pub-goers. The Tipsy Terrier was always full on Friday nights, but since the bar staff knew me well, there would always be two stools reserved by the counter when I arrived at around 8pm. It was now 8:15 and I was on my stool, bathed in the warm yellow lamplight with a glass of liquor in my hand and my girlfriend at my side.

I raised the amber fluid to my lips. I could hear the drink slosh as the liquor spilled into my mouth, burned a path down my throat and filled my stomach with warmth. I could feel it rushing through my blood, hot and exciting, almost as warm as the feeling of my girlfriend pressed into my side, so close that she was more on my bar stool than on her own. I could feel her fingertips running up and down my arm as I downed the glass, her nose nuzzling into my neck and her dark hair spilling over my shoulder.

"What, not going to save any for me?" she simpered, her lips rising to my ear as she pretended to sound hurt.

I chuckled, shaking my head slightly before raising my eyes to meet the grinning barkeep. "Hey, Louis, can we get two refills over here? Spanish brown?"

"With that lady of yours?" He laughed jovially. "Mr. Pot, every time you bring Miss Cracker here with you, you end up buying at least three glasses, _each._ May I recommend simply buying a whole bottle?"

I smiled back at him as my own laugh bubbled up from my chest to join his. "Sounds like good advice to me. I'll take it. Thanks, Lou!"

"No problem!" He replied as he scanned his shelves. I watched, fascinated, as the earthy liquid hues reflected off his rich brown eyes.

I always thought his eyes suited him well, dark and shining like the liquid he served, warm and laughing like his personality. There's a lot of beauty in eyes. In some more than others, admittedly. They hold something interesting, something worth observing. As an artist (a musical artist, yes, but still able to appreciate visual art), I found great pleasure and inspiration when looking into people's eyes. My favorite set of eyes, of course, belonged to my girlfriend, Paula. Sometimes I wondered what she saw in my eyes.

After a moment's consideration, Louis plucked a bottle of dark, mahogany-colored liquor from his collection. The deep shades rippled and swirled in their disturbed container, glowing in the pub's warm lamplight. I felt my mouth water - It looked good. "I think you'll like this one, Mr. Pot. You and your girl. It's smooth like you, but with a bit of a bite like her."

Paula snapped her teeth close to my ear, a playful purr escaping her lips. I felt my skin tingle at the feeling of her breath, the vibrations of her hum shivering through my ear, her lips so close. She whispered, her voice velvety and coy, "What do you think, Stu? Can you handle a drink that resembles me so much?"

I turned to face her, my eyes locking with hers as my lips curled into a confident grin. "Love, there's nothing I can't handle." I leaned forward, pressing a light but lingering kiss just above her lips, just beside her mole. Pulling back, I reveled in the sight of her, _my_ girl, her eyes rising to meet mine, clear and intense.

Her eyes were hypnotizing. Her pupils dilated like the windows to her soul opening, and beyond the reflection of my own mesmerized face I saw fire. Dark fire. _Her_ fire. It swirled wildly, reaching out with hot tongues, ready to burn me should I lean closer, fall in. A bit scary, yeah, but even so, I sure wish I could fall in to her eyes. I was well under her spell and I knew it. I _loved_ it.

Without turning away, I called to Lou, "Yeah, we'll take that bottle. Thanks for the recommendation."

Paula grinned up at me, the flames in her eyes swaying as if they wanted to spread, to set this whole place on fire. To set me on fire. I could practically feel my mind burning, my pulse jumping like a spark. Her lips parted leisurely, and she teased, "A whole bottle for me? Now we're talking."

"Hey now, love, we're _sharing_ ," I snickered, "although, it might be entertaining to see you down a whole bottle in one go. Think you can?" I could hear Louis chuckling at our antics as he set the bottle between us.

Paula released a long sigh. "Well, since you're paying, I should probably let you have a taste. But you bet I'll be the one drinking most of this bottle."

I dipped my head and took her hand dramatically. "Thank you _so_ much, miss Paula, for granting me permission to have a taste of the alcohol which _I will be paying for_. Your graciousness is beyond words."

That earned a raucous laugh from my girlfriend, her eyes scrunching up with mirth. While she struggled to regain her composure, I pulled my wallet out of my pocket and presented my credit card to Louis. "Here, charge whatever the drink costs, and a 20% tip on top of that. Thanks again for the advice."

"No, thank _you_ , Mr. Pot!" Louis cried merrily. "I thought I ought to let you know that my daughter loves the keyboard you helped me pick out when I visited the store last weekend. She was absolutely ecstatic when I gave it to her. It really is a quality instrument, just like you said, and it's been a joy to hear her practicing on it!"

Last Sunday at the store – the memory swept over me like a wave and for a moment I wasn't in the Tipsy Terrier with my girlfriend anymore.

I was at Uncle Norm's Piano Emporium as the doors jangled to admit a man I had never expected to see outside of a pub. Louis was red-faced, flustered. He told me that his daughter's birthday was on Tuesday, that he had tried to find a good keyboard online but found bad reviews on every product he saw. He was at his wits end.

He just wanted to make his daughter _happy_ _._

I prided myself on my work. Some say that salespeople don't really care, that we're just in it for the commission. And maybe some salespeople are.

But not me.

I loved what I sold. Keyboards, beautiful keyboards. And I loved the people I sold to, young musicians, old musicians, people looking to learn, to find new sounds, to create beautiful music. People like Louis, who want to help others find music. People like me, who find their happiness in turning noise into art.

When a person found their keyboard, it felt like- well- like two pieces of a song, or a soul, meeting each other. People and instruments did beautiful things together. I loved being a part of it.

"Hey? Stu? You still there?"

How long had Paula's hand been waving in front of my eyes? I blinked, refocusing my gaze onto the bemused woman at my side. I smiled, returning to the warm bar, the playful atmosphere, the Friday night. "Sorry, love. Got lost in a thought."

She rolled her eyes. "Well, now that you're back on earth, are you gonna pour the liquor, or are you gonna make me do it?"

"Oh, right!"

I wrapped one large hand around the neck of the bottle. Reaching with my other hand into my back pocket, my fingers searched until they brushed against a smooth, cool metal object. Bringing it out, I squeezed it in just the right spot and my flick knife revealed itself with a _click._ I eased the blade under the bottle's cork then popped it off with a quick jerk of my thumb.

Stowing the knife, I lifted the bottle and filled the glasses left behind from our first drinks. I wrapped my fingers around the cool crystal, observing as wavering spots of light danced across the surface of the dark liquor. I raised my glass and my eyes to meet Paula's. "A toast to the generosity of my fair lady Paula, who has allowed me to taste the drink which has been purchased with my money."

Paula smirked. "Yeah, a toast to me. And your money, as an afterthought."

I laughed as our glasses clinked together and tipped my head back to sip the liquor. It was delicious, a smooth, steady burn, a bite of spice, a tantalizing heat filling my insides. I hummed in approval at the flavor as the glass left my lips and settled back onto the counter top. _Whoever made this liquor was an artist. An alcohol artist._

"That's good stuff," Paula approved, smacking her lips together.

An idea popped into my head. Bracing one elbow against the counter top and a hand on her knee, I leaned slowly towards Paula, my lips forming a devious smirk. "Yeah? How 'bout another taste then?" My face approached hers and she grinned, tilting her head back and slightly sideways. My arm slid up to her waist, pulling her closer to me as my eyes closed, my head tilted, my lips parted-

The door slammed.

It was loud enough that both Paula and I jumped slightly, barely avoiding smacking our skulls together. My grip on her loosened as I turned irately to face the source of the noise. My eyebrows shot up.

"Check out that ugly mug," Paula murmured.

Her blunt comment just about summed up the man who had just entered the bar. Sallow, greenish skin contrasted eerily with the warm lighting. Greasy black hair hung over a stormy sneer and a nose so unusual it would fit in with a freak show. He wore an odd assortment of clothes which were mostly black; the exceptions were a long, purple cape which flowed just behind his shoulders and a glinting gold inverted cross necklace. It was an unusual sight to behold. I was almost tempted to take a picture.

"Should we call the morgue? I think they've lost a corpse," Paula whispered into my ear. I let out a huff of laughter but stifled it quickly when I saw that the man was approaching the only open seat left in the pub- a stool next to mine.

 _This is uncomfortable,_ I thought _._ I shifted in my seat as he grew nearer, my shoulders tensing as the odd man sat down. _Yuck- why does this guy smell like rotting fruit?_ I turned away from him, hoping to find fresher air in Paula's direction. Judging by the look on my girlfriend's face, she was no more pleased by this man's scent than I was.

I took a deep breath, looking down at the counter. _He may be a sore sight (and an sorer smell), but he has as much right to be here as we do. I shouldn't be judging him by his appearance. In fact…_ I glanced back towards the man, who was hunched over the counter on his elbows, observing his surroundings with narrowed eyes. _I should probably say something to him. This evening is going to get really awkward if we just sit here ignoring each other in silence. Who knows, maybe he's friendlier than he looks!_ I opened my mouth, turning towards the man with a greeting on my lips. Before I could so much as breath, my bottle of liquor was gone.

I stared in shock at the man who had just seized _my_ bottle of liquor. He was holding it up to the light, the mahogany hues swirling under the grip of his pale green hand as he analyzed the fluid like a connoisseur. "Hmmm," he grumbled, his voice scratching like a record after being run through a dishwasher. "Good drink. Good year. I think I'll try it." My jaw dropped with disbelief as the man raised the pilfered bottle to his lips.

"HEY!" Paula hollered.

Several patrons of the bar glanced towards us curiously as the man nearly dropped my bottle of liquor. He glared at Paula with annoyance. "What do you want, Moleface?"

 _Did he just call my girlfriend Moleface?_ I gritted my teeth as anger stirred in my gut. I'm a peace-loving guy, but this man had definitely crossed a line. I opened my mouth to tell him off-

But Paula beat me to it.

" _What did you just call me?"_

"I called ya' Moleface, you screeching hag."

Paula fumed, hopping off her bar stool and stepping towards the man. "Fancy you insulting anyone, you toad-skinned corpse! Who do you think you are, coming in here smelling like a junkyard dog, insulting people and swiping their drinks? Put the bottle down, you freeloader!"

The man regarded her for a moment with a raised eyebrow. I found myself staring at his mismatched eyes, one scarlet, one dark brown, both beady and ominous. I flicked my eyes away before I could look into those eyes too deeply. I didn't want to know what I would find there.

Than man's lips curled into a smirk. I felt my spine stiffen as his gaze swept up and down Paula's figure. "Ooh, you're a feisty one. I like that. I suppose I could split some of this liquor with you if you ditch the blue-haired freak."

There aren't many people who can make me mad, let alone make me clench my fists and _growl_ like an animal. This infuriating man, however, had accomplished this feat with flying colors. I was barely reigning in my temper. My shoulders shook with rage as I slid off my own bar stool, taking a firm step forward and wrapping my arm possessively around Paula's waist. "This blue-haired freak," I hissed, "Is going to have you kicked out of here if you don't put the bottle down and _stop looking at his girlfriend_."

"HAH!" the man laughed, his grin careless and mocking. " _You_ 're going to have me kicked out? How are you planning on accomplishing that?"

"He's friends with the staff," A low voice replied. Louis was there, his arms crossed as he loomed over the counter, affixing the green man with a menacing glare. Louis was a big man. His similarly burly coworkers were standing at his shoulders, backing him up. They could've passed for trained bodyguards. "I'd do what Mr. Pot says if I were you. We can do a lot worse than kick you out."

I smiled, bolstered by their support. I felt powerful, in control, the fiery liquor in my system fueling a rush of self-assurance, confidence, dominance. The man's face had contorted, his jaw twitching as he absorbed the scene in front of him: A posse of large bar-staffers standing tall and menacing, a young woman glaring at him in disgust, and a "blue-haired freak," poised at the center of this scene, grinning triumphantly as his girlfriend's arms wrapped themselves around his chest.

The man's eyes zeroed in on mine. I held his gaze steadily, refusing to acknowledge the depths of his eyes as I focused on my own confident expression reflected back at me. The man slammed the bottle back onto the counter, releasing it so that it sloshed and wobbled slightly before the contents went still. He rose to his feet. "Fine. I don't need this place. There are plenty of bars out there _begging_ for my patronage." He turned, his purple cape swirling as he made to step away.

His purple cape swirling…

Familiar.

A memory.

"Wait!" I shouted.

The man froze. Slowly, he turned back to face me, his shoulders stiff and his scowl deepening. "What do you want, freak?" He spat.

I allowed myself to slide out of Paula's arms. Taking a step towards the man, I cocked my head to the side, my memories clearing as I took him in. "I've seen you before," I stated. "I never forget anyone who enters the shop."

" _The shop?"_ The man growled. "I haven't got time to do stupid things like _shopping_!"

"No, you weren't shopping," I murmured, staring at the hem of his cape as the image of a man striding flamboyantly onto a stage flew past my mind's eye. "You were performing. We have performers come in every Thursday night. Keeps things interesting, draws people into the store."

The man tilted his chin up, his scowl loosening into a grin of self-importance. "Yes, I perform. I'm the leader of the best band that's ever bothered to visit this sorry excuse for a town. You're lucky you had the chance to see me before I moved on to bigger horizons."

What was the name of the band? Oh yeah, I remember. " _Murdoc's Burning Sensations,_ " I recalled, grimacing as the unappealing name rolled off my tongue. The man smirked as I looked him in the eye. "You must be Murdoc, then."

"That's me," He replied. "Murdoc Niccals, band leader extraordinaire. You, on the other hand- you said you worked at a shop? Ah, it must have been the Piano Emporium. Ha! A sorry little salesman! Bet your career is just _full_ of fame!" He mocked sarcastically. "Bet you're rolling in dough, raking in those women- wait-"

Murdoc's eyes widened. His gaze flickered towards the expensive bottle of liquor on the counter, to Paula as she cast him a fiery glare, and to me with my confident grin. I could see the cogs turning in his head, his thoughts struggling to make sense of me. "What- what's a blinking shopkeep like you doing with a girlfriend and expensive drinks?"

"I earn a commission, and I'm _good_ at what I do." I felt my grin widen deviously as I looked down on the unpleasant man, all notions of being polite absent from my mind. "I'm afraid I can't say the same for you. Smells like the Emporium isn't the only place where you've been showered with rotting tomatoes. Tell me, why are you out drinking tonight? Did you get booed out of another venue?"

He was on me in the blink of an eye.

His face was contorted in fury, threats flew out of his mouth as he pushed me into the counter. I gasped as a fist knocked the wind out of me, then crumpled to the ground as a second punch found its mark on the side of my head.

I heard Paula scream. The world was spinning, swimming, thumping, hurting. My back was grating against the hardwood floor; knees were digging into my gut. I brought my arms up to protect my face, but not before a set of knuckles smashed into my nose. I cried out in pain.

There was noise, a scuffle. Then the weight was gone.

With a short whimper I lifted my head, cracking my eyes open as the pub swirled sickeningly around me. I joined the rest of the pub's occupants watching the staff restrain Murdoc. The green man was struggling madly, his eyes locked on me, his fists swinging in a mad frenzy.

I rubbed my hand across my face, pulling it away to observe the blood now smeared across my knuckles. Slowly, unsteadily, I clambered to my feet, wincing as a wave or nausea rolled over my brain. Paula was at my side, supporting me as I straightened my spine. "Thanks, love," I murmured, sparing a glance towards her startled face before turning my eyes to the man who was spitting curses in my direction.

My pain had nothing on my anger.

I took an unsteady step forward, then a slightly stronger step, and another. I marched up to the man, returning his withering glare with my own. The bar staff secured his arms tightly, rendering him unable to do so much as flinch as I arrived in front of him and poked my finger into his chest.

"Listen here, you talentless jerk," I snarled. "You've got no right to go prancing about town like a rockstar when your 'band' is no more than a group of buddies you scraped off the sidewalk and handed instruments to. Your keyboardist made me sick, the way he banged on those keys like a mad ape. I'm no expert in guitar or drum, but they sounded pretty lousy too. You're a half-decent bass player, I'll give you that, but the moment the first lyrics of your opening song left your throat, I wanted to _tear my ears out._ I imagine you're probably the songwriter, too- those lyrics had as much beauty as _your ugly face_!"

"And you think you could do better?" Murdoc spat.

I smirked.

"Stuart plays keyboard and sings for us on open mic night, Saturdays," One woman, a regular I recognized, called from a nearby table. "His songs are all originals, and they're some of the most beautiful tunes I've ever heard."

"He writes me poetry," Paula purred, sidling up to my shoulder. "Sometimes he sings it to me. He's got more talent than twenty of you."

"He plays the keyboards he shows to his customers so that they can hear the quality of each instrument," Louis threw in, clapping me on the shoulder. "I can only hope that, after years of practice, my daughter will have half of his talent."

I reveled in their praise, my chest swelling with pride. Murdoc was staring up at me with a cocktail of anger, frustration, and hatred. I stepped close to him, leaning down so that my eyes were level with his. "Stay away from my pub," I whispered. "Stay away from my girlfriend, my shop, and my town. If I see you here again…" I reached into my back pocket. Murdoc paled when he saw my switchblade. Its shining surface reflected the pub's lights with menacing grace.

He didn't look so threatening anymore. His eyes widened with panic, his breath hitching as I pressed the flat side of the cool blade against his neck. "Next time, I won't waste any time talking. _I_ won't be the one bleeding on the ground."

He was trembling in the bar staffs' grip. Slowly, I peeled my blade away from his sweaty throat. I held it up, taking my time admiring the scared reflection of the man's face on its silvery surface before the blade disappeared with a _click_.

Murdoc let out a shuddering breath. He quickly steeled his features, as if to pretend he hadn't been scared out of his wits moments ago. I turned to the staff. Their names… John. Rudy.

"John, Rudy, would you please take Mr. Niccals outside? He's bothering me and my girlfriend." I wrapped an arm around Paula's shoulders, enjoying the way she leaned into me, her fingers splayed over my chest. I smirked. Yes, she definitely enjoyed seeing me take charge.

"Of course, Mr. Pot."

"Sure thing, Mr. Pot."

As the staff guided him towards the door, Murdoc Niccals shot one final dirty glare in my direction.

This time, I looked _deep_ into his eyes.

Where Paula's eyes held fire, this man's eyes held… _Gosh_ … I'm not even sure how to describe it. It was like looking into Hell itself. I hoped Paula couldn't feel the involuntary shiver that ran through my spine as I found myself caught in that searing gaze.

It was a gaze that swore revenge.

Murdoc turned away as John and Rudy shoved him out the door. It was raining now. The doors closed behind him, and he was gone.

. . .

I was on fire. Being electrocuted. Being pierced with burning needles across every square inch of my skin. It had to be something like that. What else could feel like this?

 _It hurts. Everything hurts! Oh gosh, why does it hurt so much?_

I tried to open my eyes. They hurt more than anything.

"Owww…" I moaned. My face hurt, my chest hurt, my arms hurt, and my legs hurt. I hurt on the outside and I hurt on the inside, in my throat, in my lungs, in my ribs, in my brain.

 _Who let this happen to me?_

 _How did this happen?_

 _Is there anyone around who can help with the pain?_

I didn't know where I was, only that wherever it was felt like hell. The pain was so bad I could barely think, and what thoughts I did manage to squeeze out of my throbbing brain did nothing to help me.

 _What happened? WHAT HAPPENED? Why can't I remember?_

 _Why can't I remember anything?_

 _Where am I?_

 _Who am I?_

Pain lanced through my skull like a bolt of lightning.

"OOOOOWWWWW!"

"Ah, you're awake."

Pressure on my eyes- someone was opening them manually. I screamed as their thumbs pressed against my eyelids, against my overly-sensitive corneas. They pushed my eyelids back. I felt pitiful whimpers shake my chest as light flooded painfully into my vision. It was too bright, everything was blurry, and everything hurt.

 _Who's doing this to me?_

I tried to focus on the person. My eyes weren't obeying me; they kept swaying and sliding.

 _Why can't I see straight?_

Then they were right in front of me, a face lowered close to mine, harsh hands with sharp nails digging into my temples and forcing my face up until my eyes could wander over nothing but his face.

 _Green- Are faces supposed to be green? I'm not sure, I can't remember. Haven't I ever seen faces before? Shouldn't this be easy?_

"Remember me, Dents?"

I stared up at the man, trying to hold my eyes steady enough to meet his. I failed. My eyes rolled limply in their sockets, turning to face his chin.

I opened my lips. I tried to speak, but I could barely choke out a sound before the pain made me stop.

The man's hands shook my head, causing a fresh wave of pain to roll across my brain. "What was that? I can't hear you!"

 _Is he enjoying this, or is he angry? I can't tell…_

Prepared for the pain this time, I managed to cough a few raspy words out of my throat. "De- Dents? Is- is that my name?"

The man was silent for a moment. Sharp nails tightened painfully over my skin.

 _Have I upset him?_

That idea was banished from my head when he began to laugh.

"You're really botched up, aren't you?" he proclaimed. His hands released my head, which fell back harshly against a thinly cushioned arm rest. _Am I on a couch? Shouldn't I be in a hospital bed or something?_ As the back of my skull hit the surface, fresh pain burst in my mind.

" _Aahhh!"_

"Oh, is poor little dents in pain?" He simpered. "Truly sorry about that- trust me, I never meant for you to survive the first car crash."

"I- I was in a car crash?"

"Yep. And ol' Mudsy has had to look after your sorry carcass ever since."

"Oh…" I felt like there was something about what he had told me that I ought to have noticed, ought to be concerned about. But thinking hurt. I didn't want to do that. But I had to know-

"Why does everything hurt so much?"

" _Because you were in a car crash, Dummy!_ " The man hollered. "Got flung out of my car window! Landed on your face!"

I stared up at him, the cogs in my mind turning slowly. My lips parted. "Dummy? Is that my name?"

He stared down at me. His head tilted sideways. "Geez, have you got any brain cells left? How are you even breathing right now?"

Everything hurt. Everything hurt before, but now I could feel a new sort of hurt growing. Was I hungry? No, I don't think this is food-hurt. But it's sort of like a craving.

"I think I need something," I rasped.

The man rolled his eyes. "I think there's a lot you need, ya dullard."

"Dullard? Is that my name?"

"Would you quit asking that?" The man shouted. There was a quick movement. He hit my face. I cried out, my throat rasping painfully as my heart rate rose in fear.

"You'd better start listening to me if you know what's good for you," The man growled. "I'm not a very _patient_ person."

I whimpered. This was all too much. I didn't understand him; I didn't even understand _myself_. I didn't know my own name, and now I was too afraid to ask about it. Everything hurt. That second sort of hurt, the craving, was rising in intensity, clawing at my insides, burning to be appeased. I curled agonizingly onto my side, my knees tucking into my chest. "I- I just want the pain to stop."

His face was in front of mine again. I could feel his hot breath steaming against my skin, could smell the bitter alcohol rolling off his tongue. "Listen closely; I don't like to repeat myself. My name is Murdoc Niccals. I'm the greatest bass player in history and more talented than you can ever dream of being. I'm going to call you 2-Dents- 2D, for short- 'cause your messed-up face is no prettier than mine right now. Your only hope of having a purpose in life is to serve me by singing and writing songs for my band. If you can't do this, you're a piece of scum and I'm tossing you out the moment our court system loses interest in me. Understand?"

That was a lot of words, but I think I picked up on something. "2D? I- I'm 2D?"

The man rolled his eyes and turned away.

There was a flash of purple…

Purple cape…

A memory, something that stood out from everything else because it was so scary…

A man with a purple cape, being walked out of a bar. Eyes looking into mine. Eyes full of hellfire.

Those same eyes, visible for only an instant as a car zoomed towards me.

I screamed.

" _Shut up!"_ The man said, spinning around to clap his hand forcefully over my mouth.

My teeth hurt. I moaned.

"What's wrong with you?" He growled, releasing my mouth.

I looked up at him, feeling fear course through my blood, my chest heaving madly, painfully. "You- you did this! In a car- my pain- my head!"

His arm was raised, reaching towards me. I scooted away, shutting my eyes. Maybe if I couldn't see him, he would disappear. Maybe everything would disappear. Maybe this was all just a bad dream, and soon, someone would wake me up.

No matter how hard I squeezed my eyes shut, I couldn't block out the pain. Especially the craving. It was growing. It was twisting. It was howling.

"Open your bloody eyes, Dents!" The man hollered.

" _No!_ Stay- stay away from me! I don't want you to hurt me anymore!"

It hurt so bad…

"But don't you want this?"

A moment of silence. My eyes cracked open.

There was something in his hand. Small, orange. He shook his hand, and something clattered inside of it, many small things, clacking around in a plastic container. The sound danced in my ears like sweet music.

 _Pills?_

Suddenly, the pain exploded.

I didn't know why…

But I _needed_ those pills.

My hand flashed out, but I was slow and clumsy, missing the pills by a long shot. "Give them to me! I _need_ them!"

"Good, you're already addicted. That will make things much easier." The man smiled menacingly. He popped the cap off the bottle, removed a single pill, and held it in front of me, just out of reach. I stretched out my neck, a high-pitched whine rising in my throat as I gazed at the pill.

"You see, 2D, you've been on these pills for a long time. Very strong painkillers. Very addictive. If you think you're in pain now, just wait until you've been off these for a couple more hours. You'll feel like you're on fire."

I already felt like I was on fire. Moaning, I reached for the pill. "Please, just give it to me!"

He swatted my hand away. "No, not yet. I need you to make me a promise first." He rose to his full height, straightening his spine, glaring malevolently down at me as he dangled the pill over my head. My neck craned painfully backwards as I struggled to keep my unfocused eyes trained on the small treasure.

" _I_ am in charge of everything that happens around here, including _you,"_ He started, his voice venomous and commanding. "If you want me to give you what you need, then you have to do whatever I tell you. If I tell you to sing, you sing. If I tell you to play keyboard, you play keyboard. If I tell you to write a song, you write a song."

I nodded my head jerkily, blocking out the pain which rocked my mind as I did so. I didn't care what he asked for. I just wanted the pain to stop.

"If I tell you to shut up, you shut up. If I tell you to make me dinner, you make me dinner. If I throw a bloody stick and tell you to fetch it, you fetch-"

"I'LL DO WHATEVER YOU WANT, JUST GIVE ME THE PILL!"

He blinked. He grinned.

"Beg for it."

My whole body trembled as I looked up into his eyes. Scary eyes. Burning eyes.

"Please," I whimpered, averting my gaze to stare at his feet. "I need it… Please give me the pill. Please, I'll do anything-"

A hand patted my head like one might pet a dog.

"Good boy. Open up."

I tipped my head back instantly, opening my mouth wide. The man chuckled.

"Maybe if I stuck two of these pills into your gums, they could pass for front teeth. Here, you probably need two anyway. I don't want you disturbing me later with your whimpering."

I felt two small objects drop onto my tongue, and quickly swallowed. Almost instantly I sighed with relief, feeling the craving ebb, the pain dull.

However, the pain wasn't the only thing that dulled.

It was like a fog falling over my mind. What little words and images were left in my concussed skull lost their focus, blurring around the edges, deforming, dissolving. I could feel my thoughts disconnecting, melting into an incomprehensible mass of jumbled nonsense.

 _My brain feels squishy. But the pain is fading._

 _Heh… squishy brain…_

 _Squishy pink blob in my head, gooey blobby blob, gummy squishy squashy pudding…_

 _Wait, what am I thinking about?_

 _What just happened?_

 _Did I get eaten by a pink blob?_

I looked around, turning my head weakly against the lethargic tide that seemed to be pulling me deeper into the couch. The room was hazy, a face swam in and out of focus inches away from mine. I couldn't quite tell, but I think it was smirking.

"Not so tough now, are ya?" A voice floated around my head, swirling with the colored blurs in my eyes. "I'm the boss here. I'm your master. Don't you forget it."

. . .

 **Coming Up Next: 20 years later, something odd happens to a band called** ** _Gorillaz_** **…**


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter 2: Murdoc has a Visitor_

 _Disclaimer: See Chapter 1_

The Humanz tour had just come to an end. Gorillaz had settled down for the time being in an undernourished-looking townhouse sitting in a row of similarly slummy constructions loitering on the outskirts of Manchester. Now that life had calmed down – or, in other words, come to a complete standstill – for myself and my bandmates, I, Noodle, spent most of my time engaged in one of two activities:

1\. Waiting for the breeze which would topple this row of decrepit houses like a set of dominoes, and

2\. Deciding how I would spend the inevitable hiatus which would surely follow our latest album.

What, you didn't think we'd get back to writing music right away, did you? Since when have Gorillaz ever done that? Don't get me wrong; I would have loved to dive straight into another album! Music is my passion! I'm pretty sure Russel was hyped to make more music as well. As for 2D… well… Let's be honest; music was the only thing he was good at. Maybe my blue-haired friend had hidden talents (perhaps even some common sense and intelligence) when he wasn't high, but that was just the problem: he was always high. Even if he weren't addicted to those pills, he'd still need to take them for his headaches. I doubted the poor guy would ever sober up.

This band's biggest problem, however, went by the name of Murdoc Niccals. However much I, Russel, and 2D may have wanted to make more music, we were a rocket with no fuel without the cooperation of the man in charge of the Gorillaz bank account. Naturally, our self-centered founder had never felt the need to share control of the cash flow with anyone else. Therefore, until the old pickle decided to quit basking in the glory of Humanz and meeting underage girls at pubs every night, Gorillaz wasn't going anywhere. It would be at least 5 years, I thought.

Unwilling to simply vegetate like the abandoned potato in the back of our pantry for the rest of the decade, I began to brainstorm a couple of ways to keep myself occupied for the next few years. I would travel, of course; I could never get enough of seeing the world's beauty and experiencing its many cultures. However, I thought I might also take my physics degree to the next level. I loved the thought of having a doctorate under my belt.

Thus, I found myself on a Saturday evening curled up in my pajamas on a scrappy leather armchair, a faded red quilt thrown across my lap, Katsu purring as his whiskers tickled my bare feet, and an article on particle physics pulled up on my tablet. Heavy winds filled the house with the sounds of faint whistling and creaking wood, and rain was called for in the course of the night. Russel was out attending the opening of a new vintage record store; 2D had gone to bed early and Murdoc was doing whatever it is he does when he's alone in his room. I had just settled down, tucking myself deep into the warm fabrics to evade the chilly air, and was planning on spending the rest of the evening catching up on the latest theories in science. Despite the ominous weather, I was determined that my evening would be calm.

Relaxing, despite the shrill, woody creaks.

Rejuvenating, despite the restless cold.

At least, that's how I planned the evening to go.

 _Sigh_ … I should've known better.

Since when has anything ever gone according to plan for the Gorillaz?

. . .

 _Ding-dong!_

Katsu folded his ears against the back of his head as the jarring sound of our doorbell broke the silence. I could feel the tips of his claws poking through my pajama pantlegs and grazing my skin as he shifted in irritation. The cat's tail flicked and his golden eyes glared up at me in annoyance. I've gotten pretty good at interpreting Katsu's facial expressions over the years. This one clearly complained, " _Our furnace is broken… our fridge is broken… of all the stupid appliances in this unsightly hut, why does the doorbell have to work so bloody perfectly?"_

Shrugging my shoulders, I decided to ignore the doorbell, instead swiping my finger across my tablet screen to read the next section of _New Discoveries on Quarks._

If only every annoyance in this house were so easy to ignore…

"NOODLE!" Murdoc's raspy voice hollered from upstairs. "ANSWER THE DOOR!"

"WHY SHOULD I?" I shouted back. Growling lowly, Katsu placed his paws over his ears.

"I'M TAKING A BIRD OUT TO A PUB TONIGHT! I NEED YOU TO LET HER IN AND KEEP HER BUSY WHILE I GET READY!"

"WHY SHOULD I ENTERTAIN YOUR GIRLFRIEND? DO IT YOURSELF!"

"THE PUB'S HAVING A COSTUME PARTY! I CAN'T COME DOWNSTAIRS UNTIL I'M IN CHARACTER!"

Katsu, fed up with the shouting match, hopped off my chair and fled under the television stand.

I rolled my eyes. It's bad enough that Murdoc can't seem to spend an evening doing something normal, but when he allows his plans to break my peace, a line is crossed.

Why should I help Murdoc? It's not like he's accustomed to lifting a finger for any of us. The only nice think I've ever seen him do for any of his bandmates is reminding 2D to take his pills, and I'm pretty sure Muds only does that because he can't stand the singer when he's awake enough to talk endlessly about nonsense.

Furthermore, I was _mad_ at Murdoc! I'd been cross with him for weeks and _he knew it_. Every time Russel and I approach him with questions about when we'd start working on our next album, he brushed us off like flies, belittled us and told us to keep our noses out of his business. 2D even tried to talk with him about making more music once. The singer left that conversation with a black eye and a headache and spent the rest of the evening doped up in his room.

To make a long story short, I didn't want to help Murdoc.

I wasn't going to answer the door.

Hmmm…

Actually…

Maybe there's an opportunity here.

An opportunity to get back at Murdoc!

I turned my tablet off and set it gently on a side-table. As I rose from the armchair, tucking my quilt snugly over my shoulders, I felt my mouth curve into a sly grin.

My, my… It sure would be a shame if someone chased off Murdoc's new lady friend…

I strode across the carpet, towards the foyer. The room resonated with the eerie sound of creaking wood and howling wind, reminding me of the storm raging outside. It seemed almost cruel to send our visitor off without letting them warm up a bit first, but really, I was doing this poor woman a favor. It's best, I reasoned, not to get mixed up with Murdoc if you can avoid it.

 _I could tell her that he's a psychopath. A murderer, perhaps. Maybe even a cannibal._

As my gaze settled on the rough wooden door, the sound of knocking echoed hollowly through the room.

 _I could tell her that he's taken me hostage and warn her that she's next!_

My fingers closed around the cool brass doorknob just as a female voice piped up from the other side:

"Mr. Niccals, are you home? This is- "

I threw the door open.

The woman's voice dropped off as we locked eyes. Now would have been the perfect time to send her off with a manic description of Murdoc's murderous ways if I hadn't been struck speechless myself.

Standing in our doorway was a fully-uniformed police officer.

The woman in uniform looked me up and down, taking in my barefoot, pajama-clad appearance. Recovering from her apparent surprise, she cleared her throat, straightened her shoulders and spoke in a level tone, "Good evening. My name is Officer Jackson of the Manchester Police Department. Is this the home of a Mr. Murdoc Niccals?"

I shifted my weight between my feet apprehensively. I wasn't one to get nervous around police on any typical day and, with the company Murdoc tends to attract, I'd come to take the appearance of law enforcement in stride. However, the appearance of an officer when I was expecting to find a very different sort of guest at the door had caught me off guard, especially since I had just been considering seeing if I could convince Murdoc's new lady friend to call the cops on him as a joke. Furthermore, I felt off my game dressed in bedclothes in front of a crisply uniformed employee of the city. Besides, why would a police officer show up at someone's house this late in the evening? It didn't make sense!

But since when has life ever made sense for the Gorillaz?

Quickly recovering from my shock, I informed the officer, "Yes, Murdoc lives here. May I ask why-"

Then it hit me: the costume party! Murdoc had specifically mentioned that the pub he planned to visit was having a costume party, so it only made sense that his company would be wearing such a recognizable outfit and acting in character. Mind you, it was a very good costume, indiscernible from a real police uniform. I wouldn't be surprised if she had a relative in the police force and had asked to borrow a real uniform for the night. My face easing into a grin, I decided I might as well play along. "Oh, yes, I remember. Come in, _Officer Jackson._ Murdoc is expecting you."

'Officer Jackson' nodded in consent and I led the way into the house. I could hear Murdoc thumping around upstairs as I guided Jackson into the sitting room and motioned for her to sit on the couch. I resumed my previous pose on the leather armchair, unwrapping the quilt from my shoulders to throw over my lap. From the other side of the room, Katsu poked his nose out from under the TV stand, sniffing the air curiously as he detected our guest.

My evening had, admittedly, been a little dull as of yet and I reasoned that I might as well have some fun playing along with Murdoc's guest while the opportunity lasted. "So, it's rather unusual for a police officer to be making house calls this late, is it not?"

The woman gave me an appraising look. "Yes, I prefer to get scheduled work done during the workday, before 5 at the latest. However, when I last spoke with Murdoc, he said, _and I quote,_ 'the night time is the right time. Show up at ten and you'll get what you're looking for.'"

I let out a short chuckle. Slipping out from beneath the TV, Katsu padded across the room, appraising Jackson with a tilted head and gleaming eyes before approaching her and arching his back against her leg. The woman leaned down to stroke his back as I parried, "Yeah, that sounds like Murdoc, alright. How drunk was he when he said that?"

"Quite drunk. His eyes were looking in different directions. I'm actually surprised he remembered I was coming tonight." Her fingers continued to run through Katsu's fur, and the cat's eyes fixed me with a pleased expression. _I like this human; can we replace the green one with this one?_

 _If only life were that simple, Katsu_. "Well, if there's anything Murdoc will remember, it's a chance to meet women," I responded with an eye roll.

Jackson scowled. "I certainly hope 'meeting a woman' isn't the only reason he put forth the effort to remember this meeting. There are more important things he should be thinking about!"

"I wouldn't count on it," I replied with exasperation. Jackson's frown deepened.

Just as she opened her mouth to unleash what I'm sure would have been a very scathing comment on Murdoc's priorities, the doorbell chimed once more. I stood up irately. _Who could be at the door now?_ I met eyes with Katsu, who made his own irritation clear by his flattened ears and lifting a ridge of hair along his spine. "Can you wait in here for a minute, Officer Jackson? I need to go check who's at the door."

"Of course," Jackson replied. "But could you see if Murdoc is almost ready to join us? We have important business to discuss."

I nodded in assent and exited the room, Katsu trailing behind me like a furry shadow.

As I entered the foyer, Murdoc finally made his appearance, thundering down the staircase in a blur of shimmering glitter. When he arrived at the bottom of the stairs, I observed that his hair was styled in a manner not unlike Elvis Presley's, and he was garbed in a costume to fit the aesthetic. He glared at me as I met him, his mismatched eyes boring into mine with their vindictive fire. "I told you to let her in! I'm not going to let a useless lackey who can't answer a blasted doorbell the first time it rings stay in _my house!"_

A bolt of anger burned in my chest. My brow furrowed as I retorted sharply, "this house is being paid for with _Gorillaz_ money, so it belongs to _all of us_. And I did answer the doorbell the first time; this is someone new. Your company is in the sitting room."

Murdoc's face brightened. "Is she? Excellent! You deal with whoever's at the door; I'll take my bird out through the back so I won't have to deal with whoever else has decided to waste our time!" Before I could protest he had turned away and was strolling confidently in all his glittery glory towards the sitting room.

Katsu hissed at my feet. _Why do we still live with this guy?,_ he seemed to say.

I sighed inwardly, feeling that the thunderheads outside might as well be drifting over my weary mind. _Trust me, Katsu, if 2D and Russel weren't here, we would have struck out long ago._ Making my way towards the door, I regretted leaving my blanket in the other room as the wind howled and raged against the house's squealing siding. The new visitor had begun pounding on their side of the door; a female voice squealed, "Hey, open up! It's windy out here!" Bracing myself for the cold, I yanked the door open.

 _Sigh_ … Is it too much to ask for one normal guest?

This woman was dressed in the likeness of Marilyn Monroe, complete with a short wig and a face practically paved with lurid makeup, her appearance somewhat ravaged by the windstorm. She glared at me with condescending, narrowed eyes (I could feel my dislike for her growing already) and sneered, "Who are you? I thought this was Murdoc's place!"

"Why are you here?" I asked, maintaining a cool composure.

The woman tossed her fake hair angrily as a strong breeze blew past her. "I'm here to go with Murdoc to the costume party, stupid!"

Behind the burning fire of my rapidly expanding spite for this unpleasant human being, I almost didn't notice the paradox which soon had me tilting my head in confusion. "Wait… If you're going with Murdoc to the pub, then who's-"

"WHO THE DEVIL ARE YOU?" Murdoc's voice howled from the sitting room.

"My name is Officer Jackson; we met last week. Based on your reaction to seeing me here, I take it you don't remember our meeting?"

"What the heck is going on in there?" pouted the woman at the door, trying to glance around me.

"Mr. Niccals," I heard Officer Jackson (who I was beginning to realize was probably a real police officer) declare to Murdoc, "At the meeting which you cannot remember, we discussed the consequences of certain illegal actions you have been committing. By tonight, you were either supposed to pay your dues to society willingly or be placed under arrest."

"Illegal activities? Whatever it is, I'm innocent until proven guilty! You don't have any proof!"

The woman at the door saw fit to attempt to push her way past me into the house. No sooner had she shoved the heel of her hand into my shoulder than I grabbed her arm and threw her over my back. She landed belly-up on the floor with a satisfying _thud._ I crouched down, leaned close to her face, and hissed, "Murdoc won't be accompanying you to the pub tonight. What's going on here has nothing to do with you, so I suggest that you _leave. Immediately."_

Katsu growled in agreement, showing off his sharp feline teeth.

Glancing frantically between my cat and me, the bedraggled woman opened her mouth, emitted a mouse-like squeak, then scrambled to her feet, racing out of the house. As I rose back into a standing position, the front door squealed pitifully on its hinges, bouncing off the wall as strong winds blew into the gloomy foyer. The cool wind contrasted sharply with the anger burning just beneath my skin; anger at the woman, at the evening, at the ultimate cause of this evening's unpleasant surprises. Anger at Murdoc.

 _Illegal activities, eh? What has the living corpse done this time?_

The howling of the wind only partially drowned out the shouts and thumps erupting in the living room. I imagined Officer Jackson had seen fit to arrest Murdoc and that the bassist was putting up a fight. Katsu, having had enough of all the noise in the house, leaped through the open doorway, waved his tail in a see-you-later gesture, and sprinted off to spend the rest of the night hunting in the storm. Gazing after him, I noticed another police car pulling up to the curb, bearing at least four more officers.

I was tired. Angry. Upset.

I was fed up with this evening.

Most of all, however, I was fed up with Murdoc.

Maybe, if I had stuck around downstairs, I could have spoken with the police officers, found out what the problem was, and assured the police that they didn't need to make an arrest, that I could convince Murdoc to put right whatever he had done wrong. But that wasn't going to happen. I had had enough of taking responsibility for Murdoc, and I wasn't going to get mixed up with whatever was about to go down here. I didn't have the energy to care what they did with Murdoc. I wasn't going to cover for him. I wasn't going to stand up for him. He had done nothing but snub me, and Russel and 2D too, for that matter. I was about to do the same to him. I was done.

As the police reinforcements ran towards the house, I turned towards the stairway. The officers entered the foyer, ignoring me as they followed the sounds of a scuffle towards the sitting room. I ascended the stairs with heavy steps as the mad ringing in my ears drowned out all other noise. In a haze of dark spite, I retreated to my room, closing the door on Murdoc's outraged shrieks.

. . .

 **Sounds like Murdoc's in a bit of a** _ **pickle!**_ **Heh!**

 **Coming Up Next: Noodle processes the evening's events with the help of a friend. Will she regret not interfering as the police tussle with Murdoc? Will she salvage some peace of mind before the evening is over? Was 2D dreaming about cute bunnies before being rudely awakened by the disarray downstairs? Stay tuned to find out!**


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter 3: Curing a Headache_

 _Disclaimer: See Chapter 1_

It was loud downstairs, and I was ticked off and done with this infuriating evening. I hadn't bothered to turn on a lamp; the hot, orange shine from a nearby streetlight suited my mood well enough as it dyed my dark room with patches of fire. I walked straight to my window and pressed my head against the cool glass, hoping to find some relief from the burning in my mind.

Murdoc was going to jail.

My family was broken.

It wasn't the first time, of course but it still _hurt_! Because this really is my family! As much as the old pickle got on my nerves, as angry as I may have been at him, I knew that behind my anger was sorrow, immense sorrow, and I was afraid of what would happen if I let that sorrow take over me.

Instead of dwelling on my sorrow, I pressed my skull harder into the window pane, grit my teeth, and let the shouts from downstairs dissolve into the ringing of my ears. I focused on the noise. As a musician, it's not to hard for me to focus on noise, given that I spend a large portion of my time creating noise. Noise is my specialty.

With a conscious effort, I turned all the resources of my mind towards the ringing in my ears, the tones which cried and buzzed and drowned out the world I was trying to abandon. The insistent keening in my ears became my world; I felt it absorbing my thoughts, my feelings, my being. It was like a sort of alternative meditation, and despite the chaos of the sound, I found it strangely soothing. As the din took over, my stress faded away. I left myself behind.

One tone was bright and clear, whining with a high-pitched intensity and piercing the soul.

One tone was low, humming deeply and filling the space with dense vibrations.

Mid-range tones chorused, slipping under and over each other like voices in a crowd, flowing into a stream of oscillating frequencies.

My soul was adrift in this stream, for how long, I do not know.

. . .

"Noodle?"

I felt like I was waking from a trance, blinking heavily, momentarily confused to find my face pressed against a cold window. I stared blankly onto the street, contemplating the emptiness and silence. Looking down at my white knuckles, I eased my grip on the windowsill. It was so quiet…

But not completely quiet.

My head snapped up when I heard floorboards creak just outside my door. I turned away from the window to observe the shadows visible through the gap beneath my door. Someone was standing out there.

The person knocked softly, and I instantly knew who it was. Russel, whose fists were rather large, could never manage to knock that softly. Murdoc was always very bombastic when he felt the need to intrude on someone's privacy. That left only my fourth bandmate, the one who knocked softly out of habit to avoid making loud noises which could worsen his headaches.

"Noods? Are you there?" His voice was sleepy and slow, but I could detect a slight whimper in his words. He sounded as if he were in pain.

I rushed to the door, barely remembering to keep my footsteps light for the sake of noise. I tried to open the door carefully, but as 2D's face came into view I saw him cringe at the shrill creaking of the hinges. He pressed the heel of his hand into his scalp, emitting a low groan.

The singer looked terrible. He was paler than usual, shaking slightly. He swayed gently as he stood, a side effect of the lack of balance caused by his medication. His face was drawn tight and his dark eyes were shadowed and watering. Nevertheless, his eyes widened hopefully when I came into view.

"2D, what's wrong?" I asked gently, feeling sorrow tug at my heart at the sight of my friend's stricken frame. "Did you get a bad headache?"

The man nodded slowly, wincing as the movement brought him more pain. "I… I woke up, because I heard noise downstairs. It was really loud and now my head hurts."

Noise… My hand tightened on the doorknob. I remembered Murdoc, the police officers, the loud scuffle. The anger and frustration flashed briefly through my mind, but I pushed it back. Now was not the time to fume over my hurt feelings. 2D was in pain. He needed help. "It's okay, 'D," I soothed, casting him a small smile as I stepped out of my room. "I'll go find your pills."

. . .

2D wasn't allowed to manage his own pills. Murdoc had always insisted that the singer would probably lose them within an hour of having the small, orange bottles placed in his hands. Russel and I both conceded that Murdoc was probably right on that count. On a darker note, I wottied that 2D might try to take all his pills at once. I don't mean to suggest that he's suicidal; However, 2D's not too bright, and I can easily imagine him assuming that if taking two pills helped with his pain, taking all of the pills would help him even more. I can't let that happen.

The pills are stored in the kitchen cabinet, inside a cereal box with a picture of a whale taped on it so that 2D won't go near it. I had 2D return to his room while I ran to the kitchen, secured two pills and a glass of water, and dashed back up.

As I entered the man's room, I took in the messy habitat with a frown. It's no wonder he trips and bruises himself so often; the place was a minefield!

2D was sitting in his bed, his back propped against the headboard and his legs stretched out in front of him. He was staring blankly at his knees, his eyes catching the glow of the same orange streetlight whose warm tones crept into my room. His head perked up as I entered, but his eager expression quickly turned into a pained one as the movement of his skull agitated his already-severe headache. The man whimpered, clenching his trembling fists into his thick bedcovers.

Quickly but silently, I approached his bed, setting the glass of water on his nightstand before laying a sympathetic hand on his arm. Hey, 'D, I've got your pills. Your headache will be gone soon; I promise."

With painstaking slowness, he raised his head to look at me, observing my reassuring smile. He tried to match it with a timid smile of his own. "Thanks, Noods."

"No problem. Open up."

His mouth opened and I gave him his pills. I guided his shaking hands towards the glass of water on his nightstand and watched as he raised it and tipped the cool water down his throat. He managed to take a few gulps without choking and set the glass down with a clink.

The man took a deep breath and leaned back against the headboard, his listless eyes roaming towards the cracked plaster on the ceiling. He always felt slightly better just after taking the pills, but it would be a few minutes before they really kicked in and drove away his headache.

I touched his shoulder, gaining his attention. "2D, do you want me to get a laptop or a music player to distract you until the headache goes away?"

He squinted, his brows furrowing in thought, his eyes drifting back towards his knees. Slowly, he began to shake his head. "No… Bright screens not good right now… no artificial sound… makes it worse."

My face fell. This was clearly one of his nastier headaches, and I didn't want him to spend the next half hour waiting for his pain to slowly fade away.

It wasn't fair! I don't know much about his life before Gorillaz, before the car crashes, but it had to have been better than this. Certainly, he'd never done anything to deserve these incessant headaches, to be condemned to a perpetually drug-addled state, and to be robbed of a properly functional mind.

I may not have known 2D before he became like this, but I know that he must have been a good man. I know this because I've met other drug addicts, ones who have nothing in common with the gentle man I know. Addicts who lash out at others, who don't care who they hurt with what they do, who sulk and shut out everyone they love.

2D is so different from them. He doesn't have to think to be nice to others; niceness is an instinct for him, and even on his darkest days he has a smile to share. He's kind to his bandmates and his fans. He has always tried to help others, even when he doesn't know how. I've lost count of the times he's found me in a bad mood and tried to cheer me up.

I wish I could help him. I wish I could do more than just bring him pills and make sure he doesn't hurt himself. I want to be able to make him better, to free him from his headaches and help him think again.

But that's not going to happen.

Murdoc was the only one of us who was around when 2D got his brain checked after the car crashes. According to the bassist, the doctors reported that it was beyond repair, that 2D would never think complex thoughts or have a decent memory again. Even without the debilitating influence of his headache drugs, his mind would not function well.

Murdoc also reported that 2D would always need his pills, and this much was clearly true seeing as how, 20 years after the initial injury, he continues to suffer from severe migraines.

In the big picture, there's nothing I can do to 'fix' his problem. I can only try to make his condition as liveable as possible and help whenever I can to keep his pain at bay. But at times like this, even that is a challenge.

I was so lost in thought that I nearly jumped when 2D's fingers wrapped around my wrist.

I met his gaze, my reflection in his eyes shifting as they rolled slightly, unfocused, the drugs pulling them off course. "Noods, could – could you stay, for a while? Maybe if you talked about stuff, it would distract me from my head."

I smiled, despite the stab of worry I felt for my pained friend. "Of course I'll stick around. Move over."

A slight grin crossed his face as he shifted, making room for me to crawl onto the bed and sit next to him, my side tucked against his. His warm arm wound around my back as my head leaned gently onto his shoulder. "What do you want me to talk about?" I murmured as my fingers found a loose string in the bedsheets and tugged at it gently.

"Anything's fine," he replied in a soft sigh.

I supposed that I might as well keep him up-to-date about Murdoc, even though he'd probably forget what I told him by tomorrow. "The noise you heard earlier today was the police coming to arrest Murdoc. Apparently, he's done something illegal recently. I didn't stick around to find out what it was though." I tried to repress a flash of anger at the memory, anger at Murdoc for getting himself arrested and at the world for tearing my family apart once more.

"Arrested…" 2D whispered, his eyes rolling towards me. "How long will he be in jail?"

It was hard to make out the tone of his soft voice… I wondered if he was just curious, if he was sad that Murdoc was gone, or if he was happy to have some time away from the bassist. 2D and Murdoc have a very… well… _strained_ relationship. Now, most relationships involving Murdoc are strained; neither I nor Russel are fond of his many strange habits like strolling through the house in cheetah-print briefs and pouring sour-smelling rum in his cereal. However, none of our grievances with Murdoc came close to the older man's issues with 2D.

First off, there was the fact that 2D's mental state was largely Murdoc's fault. The green man insisted that he had apologized at some point, but knowing him, I can't be sure that the apology was sincere. Then there was the way Murdoc treated 2D on a regular basis. He shouted at the singer more than he shouted at anyone else, felt no qualms over hitting the man when he did something unintelligent, and even forced 2D to be his personal slave at times.

2D never lashed out against him, but Murdoc was the only person 2D couldn't genuinely smile for.

Recalling 2D's question, I responded, "I have no idea how long he's in for. Hopefully not too long; his name's on this property and our bank account. Rent is due in two weeks."

"Oh," 2D responded. He began to nod, but cringed, his eyes closing tightly as the pain in his skull persisted. I winced sympathetically before continuing our conversation.

"He can't have done anything too bad, or Russel and I would have noticed. Maybe he's been parking next to fire hydrants or committing tax fraud." It was so easy to imagine Murdoc carelessly breaking simple laws. I felt a small spark of my anger from earlier flare at the memory of a few such things the bassist had done.

One specific day in my memory took the cake for examples of careless Murdoc. I was 10 years old, new to Gorillaz, and Russel had decided that I should attend a local elementary school while we weren't recording. I had been at lunch when I realized that Murdoc had misplaced a bag of cocaine inside of my lunch bag. A nearby teacher noticed my find, dragged me to the office, and within minutes I was expelled. After they called Kong Studios, it was Murdoc who came to pick me up from school. However, he seemed more interested in trying to get his drugs back from the staff than bringing me home. On our way out of the school, he smoked in the hallways, ignoring two teachers and a janitor who all tried to tell him that smoking inside the school was illegal. The drive back to Kong with the irate bassist was a harrowing experience; as many rules of the road were broken as possible. The worst part was when he flew through a stop sign, causing another driver who had the right of way to slam on their breaks. Had that driver hit the brakes a fraction of a second later, they would have hit my side of the car.

"He doesn't think about how the things he does affects the rest of us," I murmured to 2D, my eyes narrowing as frustration burned in my mind. "He just acts. Thoughtlessly. And not just with the illegal activities…" In my head, I recounted the numerous instances in which Murdoc had ignored his bandmates. "He barely lets us have a say on when we release new albums. He tells us to do things he's to lazy to do. He doesn't let us know when he's planning on doing something shady. Now he's gotten himself arrested and I don't even know why!"

I hadn't meant to raise my voice, but as my last word reverberated through the small room, I realized that my anger had momentarily taken control. When 2D's arm tensed around me, I recalled with a sinking stomach that loud noises meant pain for the singer. I turned to look at 2D with an apology on the tip of my tongue but stopped when I found him already staring at me, his dark eyes wide and kind and his lips parting to speak.

"Noodle, are you… Are you okay?"

It figures. Nothing distracts 2D from his own pain more than the pain of others.

Sighing, I let my body relax and my head sink once more into 2D's shoulder. "Yeah, I'm fine. It's just… It's so stressful, knowing that he has so much control over this band and that his stupid decisions can put our lives on hold like this! I wish we weren't so dependent on him. I wish he weren't so thoughtless. I wish…" I paused as a dark thought crossed my mind. It wasn't the sort of thought that I ever planned to tell anyone, because it would make me sound insensitive and because I feel chills every time my mind wanders this way. It isn't a nice thought. But…

I felt so at ease talking to 2D. If I could tell anyone about this, I could tell him. Besides, even if he thought that the way I'm thinking is dark or disturbing, he'd probably forget about it by tomorrow. It was the best time to get this admission off my chest.

"Sometimes," I hesitantly uttered, sparing a quick glance towards 2D's patiently attentive face before turning my gaze to my toes, "I wish Murdoc was gone. Completely gone, I mean. Like… that he'd never even existed." I didn't glance back up, not wanting to see 2D's reaction to this statement. I did, however, feel his fingers twitch at my side. Taking a deep breath, I continued, "I mean, he's my family. He helped raise me. On any normal day, I know that I care about him and that, whatever his faults may be, I appreciate having him around. But then there are days like this… Weeks like these… When he keeps tearing us down and messing things up. I can't help getting a bit angry. I _hate_ it. I hate feeling like this. I hate feeling ignored when he hides things from us. I hate feeling powerless when he leaves us with nothing. I hate feeling so much hate… I don't want to have all of these bad feelings in my heart, all of this darkness…"

My voice quavered. I could feel my eyes burning as they watered and raised a hand, hoping to wipe the fluid away before it could fall, but before I could act my arm was pinned down. Both of the singer's arms wrapped around me tightly, I barely had time to gasp before he pulled me into his chest, snaring me tightly in an intense hug.

"Noodle… it's okay…"

I hadn't realized just how much I needed wanted him to accept my confession until he was there, his chin tucked over my head and his arms encircling me in a snug hold. I felt the emotions I had tried to hold back coursing through me, breaking the dams I had built within myself and pouring out as I hid my eyes in 2D's shoulder.

His voice continued to soothe me. "I… I get how you feel, Noods. Sometimes… Murdoc…"

I felt him go tense. He lifted his head slightly, and I lifted my own to watch his eyes warily search the corners of his room. He whispered, "Noods, is Muds around? I can't let him hear… If he does, he… he'll… I-"

"It's okay, 'D," I reassured the man, whose arms had begun to tremble around me. "He's gone, remember?"

"Huh?"

"The police officers took him to jail. He'll be away for tonight, at least."

"Oh… okay. Ummm…" 2D still looked nervous. He glanced down at me and I pulled my best reassuring smile, although I'm sure the effect was somewhat dampened by the tears I could still feel on my face. Nevertheless, 2D returned a skittish grin before continuing, "I… Sometimes I wish he was gone too. I… I can't remember a lot from before… Before my head got messed up… But… I think I was happier then. I think my head felt different, like, lighter and cleaner. Less messy and foggy and painful. And I think I… I understood things back then… Things that confuse me now. Like… sometimes I look at the telly, and I wonder how it works. Then I get this feeling like I used to know how it worked, but I don't anymore. Sometimes I wonder why people read big books with tiny words, and then I get this feeling like I've read one before, but I don't remember why, and I don't remember anything about it. And when I get these feelings it makes me sad 'cause… It's like…" the words caught in 2D's throat. I could see the struggle in the lines of his face as he tried to find the words to express what he was feeling. His expression became distant as he drifted into the darkness behind his eyes. "It's like I've lost a life. Every day, every time someone asks me about something I can't remember, it's like losing a life all over again. And then, when I get headaches, it's like the only life I have left is the one that hurts, and all the good stuff is far away, and I can't remember it. I can only remember the pain."

"'D," I breathed, feeling the horror of what he had just disclosed sink into my mind. I had always known that he smiled each day out of instinct and hid his pain for the sake of others, but I never realized that the mental torment he went through each day was so bad, that he was so aware of the memories that he was missing, that he was so haunted by the dark spaces in his mind. I tightened our hug, bringing my arms around his back and pulling him closer. "I wish I could give you your memory back… I really wish I could."

"It's okay." He replied softly, leaning into the embrace. "At least… At least I've got you around. You remind me that there are good things… That the pain will go away, eventually. I… I'm really glad you're here, Noodle."

I smiled sadly as the irony of it all crossed my brain. He wouldn't need me here to comfort him if he had never met Murdoc. Between the car crashes, Murdoc's abuse, Plastic Beach, and various other tragedies he had endured, he would have been better off if he had never been a part of this band, if he had never encountered Murdoc, or Russel, or me. I was glad, though, that despite all the pain in his life, I had managed to do something to make his darkest days easier to endure. More selfishly, I was glad that the kind singer could be a part of my life. "I'm glad you're here too, 'D."

I sniffled. 2D loosened his grip and I, assuming he was ready for the hug to be over, allowed my arms to go slack. I was caught by surprise when I felt a hand under my chin, turning my face up to meet the singer's line of sight. The emotions from our conversation lingered in his eyes, but there was something else there. He looked… curious. I raised an eyebrow, silently asking what he was thinking.

"Noods… before… before the car crashes… I think I looked into people's eyes a lot. Like… like I could see something there, something about a person."

I tilted my head to the side. "Do you mean like reading their facial expression to find out how they're feeling?"

"No…" 2D shook his head, his eyes narrowing as if trying to grasp a thought just out of reach. "It was like… Like people's eyes reflected who they were, a bit of their soul or something. But…"

The singer gazed into my eyes. As skeptical as I was about the whole 'eyes reflecting the soul' thing, I couldn't help holding my breath as his dark eyes trained themselves onto mine. My reflections stared back at me from their glassy surfaces, wavering as his eyes struggled to stay still, to stay focused, but rolled ever so slightly in their sockets. For a solid 10 seconds those eyes tried to stay fixed on mine, but eventually they closed with weariness. 2D shook his head, defeated. "I can't do it. I just… I can't."

"It's fine, 'D." I comforted, noting how dejected he looked at his latest disappointment. "Tell you what; maybe you can try again tomorrow after you get some sleep." I doubted that he would remember this tomorrow, but it wouldn't hurt to give him hope and make him feel better. Speaking of making him feel better... "Hey, how does your head feel?"

2D stared at me with his head tilted to the left, confused. He raised a hand and poked himself in the forehead. "Ummm… my head feels sort of warm and squishy on top, but hard underneath."

I smiled. The man's as dim as ever, but at least his headache appears to be gone. "Get some sleep, 'D. We can talk more in the morning."

He nodded drowsily, his eyelids beginning to droop. "Okay."

I pulled myself away from him, regretting the loss of his warmth as I hopped off the bed. As I stepped towards the bedroom door, I heard fabric rustling as he slid down the bed's headboard and snuggled into his sheets. I cast one final glance towards 2D before departing. His eyes were closing, their blackness disappearing under the blankets of his pale eyelids.

"Goodnight, 2D," I whispered as I stepped through the doorway, closing it softly behind me.

. . .

 _RING, RING, RING-_

It was midnight! _Who calls people at midnight?_

It had only been ten minutes since I had left 2D's room and crept into my own bed. Now, I was racing down the stairs to reach the cell phone I had left in the sitting room, hoping that I could stop the ringing before it woke 2D.

Arriving at the device, I snatched it and held it to my ear. "Who is this?"

"Noodle!" A rough, scratchy voice. Murdoc. "Noodle, I'm in a spot of trouble, and I really need you to help me!"

I frowned. "Murdoc, I'm not paying your bail. You're the one in charge of the Gorillaz bank account."

"No, you don't understand! There is no bail; they've already judged me, and I'm being sent to _prison_!"

" _Prison?_ Murdoc, what did you do this time?"

" _It wasn't me!_ I swear it wasn't me!"

" _What did you do?"_

"They think I'm managing an international drug ring!"

That declaration caught me off guard. "An international drug ring? You're to lazy to manage an international drug ring!"

"I know, that's what I told- _Hey!_ I'm not lazy!"

"Yes, you are."

There was an angry growl from Murdoc's end. "Whatever… That's not important right now! What's important is I'm going to need your help setting my record straight!"

I pinched the bridge of my nose in exasperation. "And how am I supposed to do that?"

"I'll give you those details later, but before I go, I need you to take care of some things for me."

"Fine. What do you need me to do?"

"First off, I need you to call the Zumba studio and cancel my appointments for the next couple of months. _Make sure you get a full refund for me!_ "

I rolled my eyes. "Alright. What else?"

"Make sure nobody touches my liquor! I've counted all of the bottles and I'll know if anyone's had so much as a sip when I get out of this place!"

"If that's the most important thing you can think of to tell me right now, I'm hanging up. I'm tired."

" _Wait_! The last task is important, and I need to be on the phone with you while you do it!"

I admit, I was a bit curious at that statement. "What do you need me to do?"

"I need you to go to tell me how many of the dullard's pills there are left in the kitchen!"

My eyes widened with surprise. From an outsider's perspective, it would seem only natural for Murdoc to be concerned over how many pills 2D has left, since Murdoc is the one in charge of procuring the pills and would be unable to help us should we run out of them while he was in jail. I, however, hadn't expected Murdoc to care in the least. I suppose I should be happy that Murdoc spared a though towards 2D's health, but I couldn't help feeling a bit disconcerted at his out-of-character concern.

Carrying the phone to the kitchen, I opened the pantry and pulled the cereal box containing 2D's pills from the shelf. I quickly scanned the contents then reported to Murdoc, "The box is completely full of pill bottles. I'd say there's enough in here to last about two months."

"Good, good… by then I should be able to make an arrangement with the dealer to have more sent to you. Dealer Dan has contacts in this prison."

I sighed with relief. It was reassuring to know that 2D's pills wouldn't be a problem.

"Noodle, I want you to make sure he keeps taking those pills regularly! Trust me, he gets weird when he doesn't get them! Bad weird! And his headaches- "

"Yes, yes, I know he needs his pills. I'll make sure he gets them."

"Excellent. Well, the constable's about to cut my chord, so I've got to go. You can use the Gorillaz bank account to pay bills and stuff if you forge 2D's signature on any bank paperwork; I had him set up as a co-owner so that I could still buy things through him last time I was in jail, but he doesn't know. Make sure you pick up all your phone calls! I'll need help once I get info on this drug ring thing! Bye!"

I heard a click, and the call ended.

I ran a hand through my hair and set the cell phone on the counter. As much as I was frustrated by Murdoc's situation, I felt like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders now that I knew what was going on.

A floorboard creaked.

I spun around. In the doorway to the kitchen stood 2D, swaying slightly with his hands jammed into his pockets. His unfocused eyes swept over the counter, pausing on the whale-decorated cereal box. Not wanting to alarm the singer, I stowed the box into the cabinet before turning once more to talk to him. "Sorry 'D, did the call wake you up?"

He nodded slowly, staring blankly at the closed cabinet. "Yeah… Who… Who was on the phone?"

"It was Murdoc. He was calling from prison."

"Prison? How'd he get there?"

"He got arrested earlier today, remember?" Inwardly, I sighed, knowing that I would probably have to remind him every day. "It sound's like he's going to be there for a couple of months."

"Months…" 2D mumbled, his eyes roaming from me to my phone to the closed cabinet. "Murdoc gone for months… And my pills…"

"Don't worry, 'D, I'll make sure you get your pills every day."

2D frowned. His eyes wandered once more to the cabinet and I suddenly felt uneasy. Had he seen what was in the cereal box? "'D, how long have you been standing there?"

The man shrugged, pulling his eyes down to meet mine. "'Dunno."

I grimaced but decided not to press the issue. "Come on, let's get you back to bed."

2D allowed me to lead him back up the stairs. Soon, we were standing at the door to his room.

"Goodnight, 2D," I said, watching expectantly as he raised a hand to his doorknob. He twisted the brass fixture and the door slowly creaked open- then he paused. 2D turned towards me, meeting my gaze with those deep black eyes. His stare became intense like it had earlier that evening when he had attempted, and failed, to 'see my soul' in my eyes. A few seconds passed before his face drooped in defeat. "Noods… I wanna be able to think about stuff again."

I frowned sympathetically. "I understand, 'D. Maybe you'll feel better tomorrow."

"And Muds won't be here tomorrow?"

"No, he'll be gone for a few months."

2D nodded. His face was tired and his expression woozy, but I could have sworn I saw a glint of determination in his features. "Yeah… I'll be better tomorrow, then. Goodnight, Noods." The man turned back towards his doorway and passed through it, shutting the door soundly behind him.

I stared at the plain wooden door for a moment, my mind full of the strangeness of the evening, before shaking my head and turning towards my own room. It had been a long evening, and I was ready for a long rest.

. . .

 **Coming Up Next: Now that Murdoc is gone, how will the band react? Will 2D remember that the bassist is in jail? Will Murdoc's absence have any unexpected repercussions? Stay tuned to find out!**


	4. Chapter 4

_Chapter 4: Remembering Stuart Pot_

 _Disclaimer: See Chapter 1_

The next day started out like any other day. I woke up, showered, donned jeans and a black tank top, then headed downstairs. I could hear Katsu meowing and scratching on the other side of the front door so I let him in. The cat purred, dropped a dead mouse at my feet, and scampered off towards the kitchen.

After tossing the dead mouse into the tall grass in our backyard where a lucky snake would eventually find it, I made my way towards the kitchen. Bacon sizzled and pancakes flew through the air as Russel manned the griddle, flooding the kitchen with delicious smells and warmth. Katsu was sitting at Russel's feet when I entered, his pink nose twitching at the scent of the bacon, but as soon as he saw me Katsu ran towards his food bowl and meowed loudly. I could practically hear him screaming, _feed me! I've been hunting all night and I've worked up a big appetite!_

 _Then why didn't you eat your mouse?,_ I replied in my head as I rolled my eyes at the cat's antics. Strolling to the kitchen cabinet, I pulled out a can of wet cat food and opened it. Katsu's golden eyes glowed as I approached him and emptied the can into his bowl. He meowed in thanks then began eating, licking the gravy off his chow before digging in with his teeth. While he ate, I carried his water bowl to the sink for a refill.

"Morning, Noodle-girl!" Russel greeted, gracing me with a broad smile before turning to catch an airborne pancake.

"Good morning, Russel!" I replied as I dumped the old water out of Katsu's bowl. "Are any of those pancakes for me?"

He laughed as he prodded the bacon with his pancake flipper. "Of course! There's enough for anyone who wants any, and it's just about done!"

I grinned. "Thanks, Russel! I'll set the table after I give Katsu his water."

Two minutes later, Russel and I were seated across from each other on a worn wooden table topped with a frayed, grease-stained white tablecloth and dishes of pancakes and bacon. I transferred some of the food to my plate as Russel did likewise.

"How was the opening last night?" I asked Russel. "Did the new record store live up to your expectations?"

Russel nodded, swallowing a mouthful of pancake before responding, "Yeah, it's a pretty cool place. They've stocked a decent selection of classic records up front, as well as some new, avant-garde ones on the shelves." He paused to bite a forkful of bacon, chewed it, then continued, "The best part, though, was the back of the shop. One of the owners is an artist himself, and he has his own record press where he produces his records, as well as anyone else's, for the right price. Considering how many indie artists there are in this city, I think they'll have pretty good business. I'm looking forward to seeing the independent work that the shop will help produce."

"That sounds really neat!" I said. I was glad that Russel had a nice evening, and that the arts were still thriving in this area.

"What about you?" Russel turned the conversation, regarding me inquisitively. "Did you manage to have that relaxing evening you were hoping for?"

I sighed. It had been so easy not to think about the events of last evening as the morning sunlight cascaded into the warm kitchen, brightening the quiet house on this calm, new day. However, I knew I couldn't avoid reality forever, and Russel should probably know what happened sooner rather than later. "Well, it started out nice. I hung out with Katsu in the sitting room, reading some articles. But then Murdoc got arrested."

" _He got arrested?"_ Russel groaned, slapping a hand over his face. "What did he do this time, get in a bar fight? Paint inappropriate graffiti on a school?"

I shook my head. "Actually, he may not have done anything. The police have accused him of running an international drug ring."

"WHAT?!" Russel cried, the hand on his face becoming a fist on the table. "Muds wouldn't do something like that; he's too lazy!"

"I know; that's why I believed him when he said he didn't do it. He said he'd call back when he has more info on the situation, but until then, all we can do is wait."

Once more, Russel groaned, hanging his head as a frown crossed his face. "Great. Now we're really stuck. How are we going to pay the bills with the pickle in prison?"

"Murdoc said that 2D can sign the bank documents," I informed him. "Apparently, Murdoc had 2D set up as a co-owner of the bank account so that it wouldn't freeze if he got arrested. That way, he could buy things from jail by forging 2D's name on documents. 2D doesn't know about this."

Russel nodded. "Yeah, it's probably best if 'D doesn't know. Remember the time he tried to buy a warehouse full of dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets?"

I laughed. "Yeah. I'm glad you and I made it there in time to drag him out of that auction and convince someone else to bid higher." I remembered the day fondly, me coaxing 2D away from the building with a shiny coin I found on the ground while Russel frantically chatted up a rich auctioneer accompanied by a young daughter wearing a dinosaur T-shirt. "2D nearly sent us into bankruptcy." I frowned. "How did he get into that building, anyway?"

"Murdoc was taking him for a walk; he put 'D there so that he could seduce some women at the park."

"Oh yeah."

Suddenly, Russel's eyebrows shot up with concern. "Say, where is 'D? The police didn't lock him up as an accomplice or anything, did they?"

"No, no, 2D's fine," I quickly assured, soothing Russel's worry. "He's still sleeping."

"Should I wake him up so he can have some breakfast?" Russel inquired. "I made plenty of food for all of us, and goodness knows that skinny man could use some meat on his bones."

I considered, then slowly shook my head. "No, I think we should just let him sleep as long as he can. He had a bad headache, and he got woken up by the phone when Murdoc called from prison. He's probably exhausted."

Russel nodded sympathetically. "Poor 'D, always getting those headaches." He sat in silence for a moment, his expression sinking into something grim and sad. "It's really not his fault, when he goes and does stupid stuff like buying dinosaur-nugget warehouses. He never asked for any brain damage. He spends so much time in pain, and the only way he can escape is by getting high as a kite…"

I nodded solemnly, repressing a brief flash of anger towards Murdoc as I dwelled upon the singer's condition. "Yeah… I never realized how much it got to him until last night." Russel looked at me curiously and I continued, "After I gave 'D his medicine, I chatted with him for a little while, to distract him while his pain dulled. He told me that he knew his mind used to be clearer, that he could vaguely remember a time when he wasn't in so much pain. He knows that he's not well now. He knows that there are things he can't remember, and… he was so sad when he talked about his lost memories." _Like losing a life,_ I remembered him saying in that doleful whisper, his eyes dark and shining with unshed tears. The memory made my own eyes water.

Russel cursed. "Man, I get so used to assuming he has no clue what's going on… It must be painful, those times he realizes what he's lost… I can't imagine going through what he does when he manages to get halfway lucid."

I tried to imagine it for a moment: The mental fuzziness, the inability to think clearly, the distant throbbing that must exist at the back of 2D's brain, threatening to take over should he neglect to take his pills. I tried to imagine being hopelessly confused, knowing that there was a time when things were better, grieving over something lost that could never be regained. Knowing that the better times were gone for good. That I would never think clearly again. That I would never be far from pain. That my best memories were gone, and that they were never coming back. Just thinking about it sent shivers down my spine. "It's a wonder he keeps going," I said softly.

"Well," Russel intoned with a sigh, "I guess whenever his mood gets too bad, he can still find freedom in his meds. He can forget his mental pain as well as his physical pain if he takes enough pills, which he usually does."

I ran a hand through my hair, staring down at the stained tablecloth. It's depressing to know that 2D can only find freedom in his drugs, but that's the way things are, and that's not about to change. Speaking of which… "Oh, and Russ, now that Murdoc's away, we need to make sure 2D takes his pills regularly. He had two just before going to bed last night, so he should be fine until he wakes up naturally, as long as he doesn't sleep all day."

Russel's face eased into a small smirk. "I guess there's one good thing about Muds being jailed: 2D doesn't have to worry about getting hit. Maybe he'll be able to sleep easier for a while."

I smiled too. It would definitely be good for 2D to catch a break from Murdoc, and 2D seemed comforted last night when he heard that Murdoc would be absent. "There's a silver lining to every situation, I suppose."

Russel and I continued to eat breakfast, slowing down as our stomachs filled and the pancake stacks dwindled. When we finished all we could eat, Russel began loading the leftovers into Tupperware containers while I cleaned the dishes. The warm, soapy water was soothing on my hands, taking my mind off the early-spring chills which held the outskirts of Manchester in their grasp. As Russel handed me a pancake dish he had just emptied, we made brief eye contact, and the pale white shimmer of his eyes stirred a memory from the knight before.

"2D told me something interesting last night," I told Russel as I began to scrub the latest dish. "He said that he thought he used to be able to read people through their eyes. Not their feelings, like anyone could get if they saw someone smiling or frowning, but something else. He said it was like seeing a person's soul."

"Really?" Russel said with a small chuckle. "That sounds kinda cool."

"It does, but I'm not sure how seriously I can take his claim. You know what his memory is like; he gets mixed up all the time. This 'eye-reading' thing could just be something he saw on TV, or something his imagination fabricated. He has a very lively imagination, and I admit, I have trouble imagining him ever being insightful, let alone being able to see a person's essence through their eyes alone."

"Actually," Russel said, pausing for a moment to stare thoughtfully at the Tupperware-encased pancakes, "It wouldn't surprise me if he were an insightful person. Before his injury of, of course."

I tilted my head curiously, looking up at Russel. "What makes you say that?"

Russel turned away for a moment to open the fridge and shove the freshly filled Tupperware into a crowd of various ageing leftovers. When he turned back around, he made his way to the kitchen table, sitting down heavily and gazing at a blotchy purple stain with a deep expression on his face. Turning off the faucet, I set the last dish on the drying rack before joining Russel at the table, watching him expectantly. The drummer noted my curiosity with a brief grin before clearing his throat.

"There was an incident," Russel said, "many years ago, not long after we released our first album. We were spending the night in a hotel in Crawley, 2D's hometown. I decided to go out to a pub that night, just me and Del in my head, since 2D was too high to be safe outside of the hotel and Murdoc had already blacked out from too much tequila. You were already asleep, so I felt it was safe enough to leave you with them for the evening.

"I was walking down the road and Del was laughing at the names of the pubs we passed, trying to decide which one was the silliest. When we came across this one place… I think it was called the Tipsy Terrier… Del insisted on going inside.

"It was a nice local place, full of warm lights and happy patrons. They were having an open mic night, and there was a girl playing keyboard on a small stage at the back of the pub. She played well, not as good as 'D, but not bad at all, and it set a very pleasant atmosphere. I sat down at the bar, ordered a pint of brandy, and watched the girl play. After I had been drinking for a while, I noticed that the barkeep kept hanging around my section of counter, glancing at me every now and then. I got the feeling that he wanted to ask me something but was too unsure to move forward. Maybe I looked like someone he knew and he was wondering whether he should greet me. I didn't recognize him, so I ignored him, thinking that he'd stop staring once he realized I wasn't the person he thought I was. However, a minute later, he approached me, looking like he wanted to talk.

"He introduced himself first, told me his name. I can't remember what it was. We shook hands and I told him that I was Russel Hobbs. His eyes got wide, hopeful. He asked me if I was _the Russel Hobbs from Gorillaz,_ and it struck me that he must be a fan. I wasn't sure if I should be pleased or uncomfortable about meeting a fan at a pub; I was glad that our band was gaining popularity, but I wasn't looking to spend the night being interviewed by obsessed followers. However, Del said that I should enjoy the limelight while I could, so I went ahead and told the barkeep that I was Russel Hobbs from Gorillaz.

"Then, the man surprised me again. He didn't tell me that he was a huge fan, or yak about his favorite song of ours, or even ask me anything about Gorillaz. Instead, he smiled and said, 'you must know Mr. Pot!'"

"I got a kick out of that. I knew that 2D's real name was Stuart Pot, but I hadn't heard anyone call him Stuart since Paula got kicked out, and I had never imagined anyone calling him 'Mr. Pot.' Apparently, however, the name was familiar to half of the people in the pub. In seconds, half the patrons in hearing distance were moving towards us, creating a small crowd around the bar. They looked excited and very curious, and in no time at all my ears were full of their questions. 'Mr. Pot? Stuart Pot?' 'You know our Stu?' 'Stuart! I haven't seen him in ages!' 'How's Stu doing these days?' 'I heard he joined a band!' 'Did Stu come out with you tonight?' 'Where's Stuart?'

"The barkeep noticed that I was overwhelmed by the onslaught of voices and he hushed the patrons. Silently, they watched and listened as he began to ask me questions about 'D. I realized that these pubgoers were all people who knew 'D, so I decided that it would only be right to satisfy their curiosity.

"The barkeep started by asking me how Stuart was doing these days. I'm afraid I couldn't give him a very positive answer on that one. While I told him about the drugs and the headaches, the crowd murmured among themselves, shaking their heads, looking sorrowful. I didn't tell them about the pain 2D got from confrontations with Murdoc; they were upset enough as it was. The barkeep looked particularly gloomy. He said it was a shame that such a bright young man had been reduced to such a state. The barkeep and the pubgoers fed me more questions, asked if 'D enjoyed being in a band, if I was good friends with him, if he was still with Paula. I got mixed reactions from the crowd when I told them that 'D and Paula had broken up. Some of the patrons offered their condolences for him; others said that 'that Cracker girl' was too mean for him anyway.

"Things got interesting when the pubgoers started reminiscing, sharing their own stories about 'D. They told me about how he used to come to the pub almost every night, either alone or with Paula. They spoke about how he used to play keyboard and sing on open mic night, and how they always knew he had the potential to go far with his musical talent. Those who had met him outside of the pub mentioned his job at a piano emporium. When she was done playing, the girl on stage with her keyboard approached us and the barkeep introduced me to her. Apparently, she was the barkeep's daughter and 2D had helped him discover the keyboard that the girl had just played on.

"Listening to them talk about 'D was like getting a glimpse into an alternate universe, one where 2D had never met Murdoc. They talked about how friendly and kind he was, which was no surprise. What got me was when they started talking about how _intelligent_ he was. Apparently, 'D was a master keyboard salesman back in the day. He was known for being clever and persuasive, but never being a swindler; he used his skills only to help people. The pubgoers told stories about advice he had given them which always turned out to be solid. An engaged couple claimed that he had been the first to suggest that they start dating. Another woman spoke of how 'D had convinced her to leave her ex a year before the police discovered that the man had been married to seven different women at once. The people in the crowd went on and on about how 'D always seemed to _know_ things about the people he met, how he would understand people in ways that no one else could understand. Whenever someone asked 'D about his people-reading talents, he would just shrug and say that an artist can always see the beauty in a canvas, whether that canvas be made of paper and wood or of human hearts and minds. I tried to imagine 'D saying something eloquent like that, but it was hard to connect the mindless 2D that I knew with the clever Stuart they were describing. That's when I realized that I was living with someone I didn't know. I knew 2D on drugs, 2D in pain, 2D hopelessly confused and unable to remember what he had for breakfast. But the people in that pub knew a different 2D entirely. You might even say that they knew the _real_ 2D, the pure, unmedicated mind that the man was meant to be. They knew the original Stuart Pot, and the more they talked about him, the more I realized how much I wished I could meet this guy, the guy hidden behind the pills. It made me sad to know that I never got the chance to know him.

"The Barkeep kept the pub open two hours later than usual for the sake of his friend's memory, but eventually he and the other patrons had to go home. I was getting pretty tired myself. The barkeep shook my hand one last time before I left, thanked me for looking after Stuart, and asked me to bring Stu down to the pub if I got the chance before the band split town. I smiled and told him that I would try, but I knew that it wouldn't happen. I couldn't bring Stuart back to the pub because Stuart was gone. All that was left was 2D, and I didn't want to see the disappointed looks on Stuart's friends' faces when the blue-haired man didn't remember a single one of them."

. . .

I spent the rest of the day thinking about Russel's story. It crept into my mind while I was playing with Katsu, permeated my thoughts as I did boxing exercises at the gym, and distracted me as I collected groceries from a Tesco.

To be honest, if freaked me out a bit. I had always assumed that I knew 2D better than most people, especially people who hadn't seen the man in twenty years. Russel's tale was an uncomfortable reminder that the man I knew was merely a shadow of a man who once was, a cruel caricature of a person who had possessed intelligence, countless friends, and a whole life of his own. Yes, I knew 2D, but Stuart Pot, the man the singer wished so desperately to be once more, was a man I didn't know at all.

On the way home from Tesco's, I stopped at a Mongolian restaurant to pick up a few of our favorite stir-fries. I almost forgot not to order Murdoc's usual, the meat lover's meat fry with extra steak chunks. I did make sure to pick up an extra helping of 2D's favorite, the chicken & noodle fry with a fortune cookie. The singer would be hungry by the time I got back, having slept through both breakfast and lunch.

By the time I arrived back at the house with the takeout, the sun had set and the air was stinging with a nighttime chill. I quickly ran the food into the house, shutting the door firmly on the brisk outdoors. Making my way across the foyer, I paused to scratch Katsu between the ears as he napped with his back against a heating duct before I entered the kitchen. "Russel, 2D, I bought dinner!" I shouted to the house. The steady boom of Russel's footsteps approached from the sitting room and soon enough the man was entering the kitchen, breathing deeply through his nose as a broad smile spread across his face.

"Smells good! Stir fry night?"

"Yep," I replied. "I got you the pork & rice dish with extra bourbon sauce."

"My favorite!" He said, accepting the Styrofoam container gratefully. I pulled out my own container of shrimp lo mein with oysters and sat across from Russel at the table.

I listened for the sound of 2D's airy footsteps but heard nothing, which concerned me. "Russel, has 2D been downstairs yet today?"

Russel shook his head, mumbling around a mouthful of rice, "No, haven't seen him. Must still be resting."

As glad as I was that the man was getting some needed rest, I was worried. It was getting late, 2D probably hadn't had food in 24 hours at this point and he probably ought to have taken another dose of his medicine sometime in the afternoon. "I'm going to wake him up in a few minutes," I decided out loud. "He's got to eat sometime today, and take his pills before his headache returns."

"Sounds like a good idea to me," Russel replied, continuing to dig into his meal.

Ten minutes later, I tossed out my empty takeout box and began to tread upstairs. I came to a stop in front of the door to 2D's room. Not wanting to make any abrupt, loud noises, I called softly, "2D, are you awake? There's dinner downstairs; you should eat something."

There was no response. Reasoning that D was probably still asleep and that a bit of extra noise wouldn't hurt, I knocked firmly on his door, announcing, "Hey, 'D, wake up. I bought us dinner. Come down and eat."

Still, there was no response. Bemused, I pressed my ear to the door, trying to make out any sign that the singer was moving around the room, or at least crawling out of his bed.

At first, I heard nothing. Then, I made out a soft noise… Many soft noises… high-pitched, rhythmic noises which sent my ears tingling with unease. It sounded like whimpering.

Unwilling to stay in the dark, I opened the door. Almost instantly I was hit by a sour smell that made me gag, then filled my guts with sickening dread. 2D's room smelled like vomit.

Panic rising, I flipped on 2D's light switch. A bright lamp cast its glow over the figure of the singer curled up onto his side, his back facing me so that I could see the ridge of his spine molded into the thin, white fabric of his T-shirt. I could hear his whimpering more clearly now, and I could see the sheen of sweat on the back of his neck as well as the tension in his tightly curled body.

I ran to his bedside. When I set my hand on his shoulder, I was shocked at the moisture I could feel even through his shirt and dismayed by the way he cringed, his arms tightening their grip around his knees. There was a puddle of clearish vomit on the sheets inches away from his head, and I could make out some sticky spots on the front of his shirt. I leaned over him slightly to observe his face. His eyes were squeezed tightly closed and his jaw was clenched and rigid, whimpers hissing out from between his painfully bared teeth.

This was bad. I was used to the headaches, I had seen him with the mild colds his weak body seemed prone to catching, but this was something different, something worse.

"2D," I said, trying to control the tremor in my voice, "'D, can you hear me? Are you okay?"

One black eye opened, fixing me with a stare of unrepressed agony. "N-Noo… Noodle…" He groaned, his voice rasping as if speaking caused him great pain.

"'D, can you tell me what's wrong? Did something happen? Do you know why you're sick?" I asked, focusing on keeping my voice level, determined not to scare him with my fear.

2D's eyelids twitched and a shrill whimper escaped his lips. "Th-the p-pills," he uttered, his voice shaky, "All… the pills… need them… but… can't have… had to… no more… no more…"

I felt as if someone had punched me in the stomach. I remembered 2D seeing me with the cereal box full of pills the night before, his eyes lingering on the box as I put it away… I had the feeling that I knew why 2D was sick.

"Russel!" I shouted, not bothering to keep the urgency out of my voice.

The drummer must have noticed my distress, because seconds later he was thundering up the stairs. "Noodle-girl, what's- _oh, gosh…"_ He took in the sights and smells of the room, his eyes going wide as he saw me standing next to the prone singer.

"Russel, I need you to check the kitchen cabinet and tell me if 'D's pills are still there."

His face paled as he realized what I thought was going on. He was down the stairs in an instant. I could hear the cabinets crashing as they were flung open and I could hear the frustration in Russel's voice when he swore. "Noodle, the box is gone! There's nothing in here!"

"Took it…" 2D muttered, his eyes squeezing closed once more. "had to… I… I had to do it…"

2D had seen the pills last night. Come to think of it, I don't remember having seen the pill box when I had retrieved Katsu's canned food earlier that morning. The singer must have taken the box sometime in the night, before he could forget about it. He had spent nearly a whole day alone with his pills, and judging by his current condition, he hadn't taken them responsibly.

It looked like we were dealing with an overdose.

I could hear Russel re-entering the room as I felt tears prick at my eyes. Suddenly, 2-D let out a loud, long moan. "Gonna be sick…"

"Russel, help me get him to his toilet, before he vomits on himself again!" Together, Russel and I pulled the trembling singer out of his bed, throwing his arms over our shoulder as we half-led, half-carried him towards the bathroom connected to his bedroom.

As we entered 2D's bathroom, I took note of the whale-adorned cereal box sitting on his sink. I continued to stare at the box, feeling a combination of horror, anger, and helplessness as we unloaded 2D next to his toilet. I could hear him dry heaving as I moved away from him, towards the sink, and picked up the light, now-empty cereal box. My sock-adorned toes bumped against the empty, plastic pill bottles littering the floor as I moved. I took a deep, shaky breath.

"Russel, will you stay here with 2D while I call for an ambulance?" I requested.

For a long moment, the drummer didn't respond. Feeling a painful flash of fear and irritation, I turned towards Russel, who was staring down at 2D as the singer gagged over the toilet bowl, failing to force anything out of his already-empty stomach. "Noodle…" Russel uttered slowly, his expression unreadable. "Come look at this."

I felt my anger flare. Why did Russel want me to look into 2D's toilet bowl? The singer had overdosed! If we didn't do something immediately, he would start to lose feeling, go unconscious, slip into a coma, and die! This was a waste of time!

However, I quickly tempered the strong emotion. Russel was my bandmate, he cared about both me and 2D, and he wouldn't ask me to look at something at a time like this if it weren't important. With an unsteady step I moved close to 2D and looked over his shoulder, into the toilet bowl.

Had I been thinking clearly, I might have noticed that the toilet, unlike 2D's bed, did not smell like vomit. As it was, I spent a long moment staring confused into the porcelain bowl before I registered what I was seeing. There was no vomit in the toilet bowl. Instead, the water had turned dark green, the same shade as 2D's pills. Half-melted pill casings could be seen sticking to the edge of the waterline, and a fine powder could dimly be made out at the bottom of the bowl of cloudy water.

I quickly compared the clear color of the vomit I had seen in 2D's bed to the sickly green hue of the dissolved pills in the toilet bowl.

"He didn't take his pills…" Russel said softly, his eyes fixed on the contents of the bowl. "They went in here, into the water. I think he dissolved all of them."

My eyes caught the movement as the shaking singer slowly raised his head, his gagging pausing long enough for him to bring his quivering, dark eyes to meet mine. The singer's lips trembled as he whispered, "h-had to… had to get rid of them… M-Murdoc gone… it was… my only chance…"

Then I understood. Somewhere in that confused mind, amid the pain of wanting his old self back and the unexpected freedom brought on by Murdoc's absence, 2D had made the drastic decision to get rid of his pills. The man wasn't overdosing. He was in withdrawal.

. . .

 **Much thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far! I love hearing back from the people reading this, so keep it up!**

 **Coming Up Next: 2D is in withdrawal! How will the band try to help him? Will they try to get him more pills, or will they let him go cold turkey? Will 2D stay strong with the decision he has made, or will he find himself crying out for the drugs he craves? Will the time away from his meds help 2D, or will it only make his condition worse? Stay tuned to find out!**

 _ **by the way, I feel like I should mention that I don't know much about drug withdrawals and that I can't guarantee an accurate portrayal. I don't intend to offend anyone if my portrayal ends up being unrealistic.**_


	5. Chapter 5

_Chapter 5: 2D Sees a Doctor_

 _Disclaimer: See chapter 1_

While Russel helped 2D change out of his vomit-soaked clothes, I removed the singer's bedspread, chucking the sick-smelling sheets and blankets into the clothes-washer and adding double the amount of detergent recommended before setting the machine to a long, hot wash cycle. I raided my own closet (since I'm the only occupant of this house with enough foresight to own a spare set of sheets and bedding) then returned to 2D's room bearing a seafoam-green bedspread that I hoped the singer would find soothing.

I could hear the shower running in 2D's bathroom. The rhythmic shush-ing of the water against the wall, falling fast, loud, distant, and continuous, created a false atmosphere of calm and normalcy. The deep hum of Russel's voice gently flowed in and out of the sound as the drummer provided soft instruction and encouragement to our ailing bandmate. As I prepared 2D's new bedspread, I listened to these sounds, dwelling upon how peaceful they almost were. _Almost_. The misty lull was broken at intervals by a discordant, high-pitched whimper, the cries of a man whose head might as well be caving in.

Shortly, the water turned off. I stood by the bed's headboard, watching as Russel pushed the restroom door open and led 2D through. The singer wore gray sweatpants and a loose white shirt which matched the pallor of his sickly skin to a tee. He shook, hands quivering like leaves in a breeze, as he was led to his mattress. 2D crawled on top of the linens, his spine arching into a crescent as he curled upon himself, wrapping trembling arms around his knees. I saw drops of moisture on his neck; whether it was from the shower or a fresh wave of sweat was uncertain. I met Russel's eyes and nodded towards the door. Russel sighed, turned to 2D and murmured, "Hey, 'D, Noods and I are gonna step out for a moment to have a little chat. We'll be right outside your room if you need us, and we'll be back soon." The singer's only response was a short groan as he buried his face into the sheets, his eyes squeezing closed. Stepping lightly, Russel and I ghosted away from the bed and into the hall.

Katsu was waiting for us outside the door. His furry body dusted my legs as I gently pulled the door into its frame, leaving it open a crack so we would hear if 2D needed help while keeping the harsh hallway light out of his room. Seeming to sense my frustration, the cat rubbed his head against my calf, purring sympathetically. I reached down to scratch his ears before turning my attention toward Russel.

The drummer ran a hand over his scalp, his face pinched and worried. "Man, 'D looks like he's in for a rough night. Rough couple of days, maybe."

I grimaced. "Yes, he's already in so much pain… This tops his worst headaches. Do you think it will get any worse?"

"It's likely. I had a buddy once who went through a rough withdrawal. Heroin addict. Took him a while to get straight. I was with him while he was going through it. He was sicker than a dog with a chocolate fountain… And his _cravings_ …" Russel shook his head, his frown deepening. "It doesn't look like D's hit the worst of his cravings yet. When he does, he'll be a nightmare."

I felt sick. If this was only the beginning for 2D, how bad was it going to get? Would the singer be able to handle much more? Closing my eyes tightly, I grit my teeth in frustration before taking a deep breath and asking Russel, "Your friend… How long did it take for him to reach the worst point of his withdrawal?"

"About 24 hours," Russel answered, "however, we can't count on things being the same for 'D. Different people's bodies respond differently to this type of strain, and the type of drug matters, as well as the amount of time someone's been on a drug. I've heard that heavy painkillers can cause terrible withdrawals, and when you factor in that 'D's been on these for as long as this band's existed… _Man…_ How long has it been? Like, twenty years?" For a moment, the drummer's eyes widened, as if taking the time to marvel at the passing of years. He sucked in a quick breath and released it slowly. "This isn't going to be pretty. Not pretty at all… What are we gonna do?"

I clenched my fists as an unpleasant array of emotions welled up in my chest. I felt heart-wrenching pity for the poor singer whose shrill whimpers I could still hear piercing the air. I imagined those whimpers becoming louder and more desperate as his aches and cravings grew… Competing with this feeling was a growing pulse of anger, anger at 2D for not telling us his drastic plans, at Murdoc for not being here to help us, and, most of all, at myself for not watching 2D more closely. After all, I knew how emotional and pained 2D had been recently. I'd noticed that 2D was behaving strangely. I was there when he saw the cereal box full of pills, and I'd even wondered if he had realized what was in there, yet I'd done nothing to prevent this from happening! Murdoc had tasked me in our last phone call to make sure 2D kept taking his pills, and I had failed.

But dwelling on my failure wasn't going to do anyone any good.

Focusing inwardly, I saw my emotions. I understood them. And I told them to take a hike. I needed a clear mind to sort this situation out. My breathing shifted subtly into a Zen calming pattern I learned long ago, a technique taught to child soldiers so they could ground their minds when the world went up in flames. And I thought.

In the clear space of my mind, I saw two main options: Allow 2D to go through withdrawal or find him more pills as soon as possible. I turned my inner gaze to the first option.

What would happen if we simply allowed 2D to go through withdrawal? It would cause him pain, lots of pain. His cravings would spike, but eventually fade. The headaches, on the other hand, wouldn't get any better. 2D wasn't just fighting an addiction; he was tearing down the barrier between his mind and his migraines, allowing the pains his pills had been preventing to sweep over his brain in an agonizing wave. Without his pills, he was defenseless against his headaches. As much as I wanted to support 2D, there was no foreseeable end to his headaches, and he would gain nothing but pain from the move he was making. Option one was out.

The second option, finding 2D more pills, was more complicated. First off, even if this was the best option, I wasn't sure that it was possible. I didn't know who Murdoc got 2D's pills from. The label on 2D's pill bottles was extremely scant, bearing only the very unscientific title "Brain Pills" and the instruction "Administer when necessary." I'd been a skeptic of these sketchy pills for years, but they had always worked, so I had never questioned them too much. I didn't know what the pills contained. The only person who might know would be Murdoc, but his high-security prison required phone calls to be scheduled at least a week in advance. We couldn't wait that long to act. I could try taking the pills to a doctor so they could deduce the ingredients, but without a written prescription (Murdoc, where do you keep 2D's prescription?)or a lab test (which would likely take weeks to process), I doubt any doctor could name the exact contents of the pills.

However… A doctor _could_ prescribe 2D a _different_ set of pills. 2D would still need to ride out cravings for his old pills, but if the new pills were just as effective, we could kick his headaches to the curb. New pills and a less painful withdrawal… It wasn't perfect, but it was a solution I could work with.

"Noodle-girl, I don't know how you think over the sound of his moaning."

Russel's stressed grumble greeted me as I slipped out of my thoughtful trance. I became aware of the weight of Katsu leaning against my leg, warming me through the fabric of my trousers. Standing up straight, I met Russel's gaze, bolstered by a steady calm which radiated soothingly from my core. "We're going to call a doctor in," I told the drummer. "2D's in no shape to be traveling, but we need to stop his headaches. When the doctor gets here, we'll have them look at 2D and write him a prescription. We can also ask them to take a sample of the residue of melted pills in 2D's toilet and figure out what kind of medicine he had in case the new prescription doesn't work."

Russel nodded. "Good plan, Noods. You should make the call; This stress is puttin' me on edge and I'd probably end up shouting at the doc. While you call, I'll check 2D's restroom and see if any pills rolled away onto the floor or somethin'.

Katsu meowed, his golden eyes gleaming, tail waving in approval.

. . .

 _Ding-Dong!_

The doctor had arrived. I rose from my seat at the bottom of the stairs in the foyer and swiftly reached the front door. I could hear Katsu meowing from the kitchen (probably disgruntled by the much-hated doorbell chime) as I opened the door and welcomed the doctor into our home.

Dr. Jade Khalan was officially retired, but she subbed in at the local hospital when other doctors needed an unexpected day off or when someone was needed for an unscheduled in-home checkup. The hospital receptionist I had phoned described her as one of the best in the industry, experienced in drug-related matters and endowed with uncommon patience and kindness. She was an ageing woman, her hair more silver than black, and she smiled kindly at me before I led the way up the stairs.

As we reached 2D's room, Dr. Khalan spoke, "I've seen many rough withdrawals over the years, and every circumstance is unique. Are there any details of Mr. Pot's situation that you think I should know?"

I quickly skimmed 2D's medical history in my head, searching for notable facts. "He'd been on those pills for about 20 years and can barely remember a time without them. 2D – Stuart – has suffered massive head trauma on two separate occasions, which has left him with cognitive disabilities and migraines. It might be hard to tell which of his pains are from his regular migraines and which are from withdrawal." I frowned as my thoughts turned to 2D's behavior. "When he destroyed his pills, I don't think he was thinking clearly. One of our – well – _close friends_ , was recently sent to prison, and Stuart has been acting strangely ever since." Once again, I was cursing inwardly at my foolishness for not keeping a closer eye on 2D. I was quickly becoming lost in thought when I felt a warm hand on my shoulder, and I jerked my head to meet Dr. Khalan's sympathetic hazel eyes.

"Don't blame yourself, dear. From what I've heard, my patient decided on his own accord to destroy his pills, and you can't always stop a loved one from making a questionable decision. It was very good of you to call me in, and I promise I'll do everything I can to help your friend recover."

I found myself smiling at the kind doctor. "Thank you," I murmured as I pushed 2D's door and led the way into his room.

"2D? Russel?" I called softly into the dim room, lit by the lights of the hallway and the restroom as well as by an orange-hued streetlamp just outside the window. The room brightened as the restroom door opened wider and Russel appeared, looking worn and tired but gracing our guest and I with a small smile.

"Hey, Noods. And you must be D's new doctor."

"Dr. Khalan. Pleasure to meet you." The doctor responded brightly.

A shrill moan interrupted the introductions. My gaze turned to 2D, and I felt my stomach twist when I saw the state he was in. Somehow, he had curled up even tighter since I last left the room. Sweat glistened on his neck and caused his shirt to stick to his back, rendering his bony spine and shoulder blades quite visible through the thin fabric. I watched his chest heave with trembling breaths and heard a pained, trembling voice pierce the air, "R-Russ… Noods… are you there? Wh-what's happening? Hurts…"

I was at the singer's side before I could think, extending a hand to his clammy shoulder and soothing, "Shhh… Hey, 'D we're here with you. I know it hurts. There's a nice doctor here to see you."

2D cringed, his body trembling. "A doctor? Is it Murdoc?"

"No, it's not Murdoc. It's a real doctor. Her name is Dr. Khalan, and she's going to help you feel better."

"Hello, Mr. Pot." Dr. Khalan greeted gently. "I'm Dr. Khalan, but you can call me Jade. May I call you 2D?"

2D didn't look up. I kept my hand pressed firmly over his shoulder as he continued to shake. After a strained whimper, he murmured, "Noods… My head… It won't stop hurting. I want it to stop."

I could feel Russel and Dr. Khalan watching me as I tried to comfort the man. "We'll make it stop soon. Trust me. We just need to let the doctor look at you first."

"Could you keep talking to him while I take his vitals?" Dr. Khalan asked softly.

I nodded, watching as the doctor circled the bed to observe 2D's face and be closer to his wrists. "The doctor is going to take your pulse now, 'D," I whispered, leaning close to 2D's ear and rubbing my thumb against his shoulder blade. "You'll feel her hand on your wrist soon."

The singer tensed as Dr. Khalan's unfamiliar skin brushed his, emitting a small moan as she measured his pulse with practiced gentleness.

"Why… Why's a doctor here to see me?" 2D slurred. "Am I sick?"

"You feel sick because you stopped taking your pills" I responded. "But we're here to help you, and you're going to get better." I continued to rub 2D's shoulder, hoping to distract the man as Dr. Khalan began fixing a blood pressure cuff to his arm.

2D grimaced, his closed eyes squeezing tighter. "Is M-Murdoc m-mad at me?"

I sighed softly. "No. Murdoc's in jail. You don't have to worry about him."

Dr. Khalan glanced up at me with wary curiosity. She was probably wondering just who this 'Murdoc' person was, and if he was a danger to her patient. I could tell that she was willing to wait until after she had completed her patient evaluation to ask after the mysterious man, but the talk would come.

"M-Mud's will be mad… gets mad when I don't take them… He'll… He'll…"

I could feel 2D's tremble worsening under my grip, his muscles tensing, sweat pouring. The singer's killer headache seemed to be triggering some of his worst memories of pain, specifically pain related to Murdoc, and Dr. Khalan was looking increasingly concerned. Russel, who had been standing awkwardly near the restroom door, stepped forward and chipped in, "Man, don't worry about Muds. He's in prison, remember? Ain't comin' anywhere near you. You're safe. Muds is gone."

2D's breath hitched. His trembling slowed. Slowly, the singer cracked open his dark eyes, meeting the gaze of Russel across the room with an expression that seemed almost hopeful. "Muds… is gone?"

"Yeah, 'D, he's gone." Russel let out a long breath, reassured by 2D's sudden bout of calm. "He's in prison, and he'll probably be there for at least a couple of months." Russel cast an encouraging smile towards the singer, who continued to watch him with a cautious, hopeful stare. "Now we're going to clear up those headaches, get you some new pills-"

"NO!"

I sprung back in alarm as 2D convulsed, his limbs flying and posture changing as he let out his forceful shout. 'D now had his back flush against the headboard, his knees to his chest and feet planted flatly on the sheets, arms wrapped defensively against his legs and hands curled into tight fists as if to protect himself from the trio gathered around his bed. He was shaking once more, but this time his expression bore both fear and fury. "NO MORE PILLS! MURDOC CAN'T MAKE ME! YOU CAN'T MAKE ME! I WON'T TAKE THEM! I'M DONE!"

Russel's jaw hung loose, shocked by 2D's uncharacteristic tirade. I exchanged a glance with Dr. Khalan. She too had leaped away from 2D, but the surprise was already fading from her gaze, replaced by the steady determination of a doctor who had seen countless tough cases and stuck them all through to the end. "Mr. Pot," she soothed, "I'm not here to make you do anything you don't want to do. I just want to help you. Will you let me help you?"

2D didn't meet Dr. Khalan's gaze; his eyes flickered quickly across the faces and bodies of his companions without seeming to take anything in. "I'm done, I'm done, I'm done… No more pills… I'm done… Never again…"

His voice was breathy, laced with panic, and yet… It struck me that there was something _controlled_ behind it. Something steely and firm, a level of intent and resolve I wouldn't have thought the singer was capable of. It was so intriguing that I almost forgot to be concerned.

A few moments passed before I noticed that Dr. Khalan was giving me a meaningful stare. She twitched her head towards the singer, and I realized that she wanted me to talk to him.

"Hey, 'D," I murmured softly, shaping my voice into the most silky, soothing tones I could muster. "None of us are going to hurt you. We're not going to force you to do anything or take anything." This was true. Something in 2D's voice had made me decide that I didn't want to make the man take any pills, not when he was so high-strung and clearly yearning for more control over his life. Nevertheless, I wanted Dr. Khalan to prescribe him something so that, when his pain spiked, he could make the decision to take the pills himself (supervised, of course; I wasn't forgetting his mental difficulties so fast). The pain of 2D's headaches wouldn't go away on their own. Eventually, 2D would either forget his reservations towards taking pills or be so overcome by a migraine that his resolve would break, and he would need to take something. However, I hoped that when that time came, 2D would find some satisfaction in choosing to take the pills himself. "We all just want to help you," I whispered. I reached out, my hand floating slowly towards his shoulder. The singer's eyes flickered to the hand, his breath catching as my fingers brushed his sleeve, air hissing out between his clenched teeth as my palm settled beside his neck. I had to lean slightly onto his bed to do this, but despite the protesting creaks of the old mattress, 2D did not retreat from my touch. As he continued to stare at my hand, I continued, "I called Dr. Khalan to make sure you were doing okay and help us find ways to make you more comfortable and stop your headaches. Will you please let her take a look at you?"

2D's shoulder loosened, the tense muscles going soft beneath my hand. As I watched, his head moved slowly, gently, so as not to aggravate his aching skull. He locked eyes with Dr. Khalan.

The doctor offered an encouraging smile. "Well, 2D? Will you let me give you a check-up?"

2D barely seemed to hear her. He gazed intently into her eyes, his own black corneas uncommonly focused and still. I felt a strange chill run down my spine as I took in his rapt stillness. As he looked into the doctor's eyes, 2D was seeing something… Something I wasn't seeing. I couldn't shake the feeling that in the mind of the singer who I had known for years as a spaced-out, unintelligent man, something profound was taking place. She hid it well, but judging by the minute twitch of her thumb against her handbag, I thought Dr. Khalan was beginning to feel unnerved as well.

"Hazel," 2D whispered, his voice propagating easily in the quiet room. "Your eyes… They remind me of a tree."

Dr. Khalan smiled. "Yes. I have my mother's eyes."

2D shook his head. "No… they're your eyes. They're _you_. Like a tree… rich brown, strong heartwood, that's lived for a long time and seen many things… So many things… But still soft and gentle, new green leaves, the kind that birds like, the kind that comforts…" Russel's jaw had dropped lower since I last looked. Dr. Khalan was standing very still. My mind was frozen, not quite comprehending as I absorbed 2D's silvery, almost mystical voice. "There's a darkness in your past… Like scorch marks on your soul, in your mind. But is hasn't stopped you, has it? The wood and the leaves grow around the pain and turn it into harmony… _Oowww!"_

2D's body suddenly drooped, one hand rising to run through his spiky hair. "Hurts… hurts…"

My hand clenched around his shoulder as I snapped out of a daze. Dr. Khalan quickly reached forward. She stopped just short of touching her patient, eyes wary, as if she were wondering if he would respond badly to her touch. 2D's eyes were screwed shut, his face contorted in pain, but he managed to pant out, "Dr… Khalan… help…"

Despite my friend's pain, I felt a small burst of happiness. He had accepted the doctor's help.

Dr. Khalan gently laid a hand on 2D's other shoulder, and I gently removed mine – my arm had been getting sore from stretching towards him. Dr. Khalan smiled, her gaze meeting both mine and Russel's before she said, "It seems things are under control for the moment. Why don't you two kip downstairs for a quick breather and a snack while I give 2D his checkup? You both look tired; I can tell you've been worrying over your friend and could use a break."

I smiled gratefully, painfully aware of the soreness in my arms and the tension in my back. "Thank you Dr. Khalan, that sounds wonderful." A thought occurred to me, and I turned to Russel. "Hey, Russel, were you able to find any of 2D's old pills in his restroom?"

Russel shook his head sadly. "I'm afraid not."

Dr. Khalan sighed. "Shame. I wish I could have analyzed a whole pill, then the lab techs could help me figure out how long Mr. Pot is likely to be in withdrawal. Oh well; a sample of the dissolved pill water will have to do."

"Thanks again for coming out so late, doc," Russel intoned earnestly. "I'm not sure 'D can take much more of this."

Dr Khalan nodded. "No problem, dear. Now both of you youngsters get some fresh air before I have two more patients to treat," she said teasingly.

Russel chuckled before leading the way out of the room. I followed, casting one last worried glance towards 2D before passing through the doorway.

. . .

Russel and I regrouped at the kitchen table. I took deep breaths, realizing just how right Dr. Khalan was about us needing fresh air as I remembered that not all rooms smell like vomit. Russel laid out tall glasses of cool water for each of us. I chugged half of my glass straight away. "Thanks, Russel."

"Sure thing, baby-girl." The drummer replied with a tired smile.

" _Meow!_ " Katsu hollered from somewhere in the living room.

Tilting my head back, I watched as Katsu appeared in the kitchen entryway, batting something small between his paws; possibly a dead spider. As the cat approached, however, I realized that whatever he was batting was making faint clicking noises on the floor – more hard and solid than a spider, then. I turned in my seat, watching curiously as Katsu approached my chair. My eyes widened when Katsu finally arrived, sitting at my feet with the small object between his paws, staring proudly up at me.

It was one of 2D's pills.

I smiled, picking up the pill with one hand as I treated my purring feline to a well-deserved back-scratch with the other. "Hey, Russel, look what Katsu found!"

Russel gaped as I held up the pill for him to see. His mouth then stretched into a broad smile. "Awesome! We can give that to Dr. Khalan before she leaves! Then she'll be able to figure out what's been in 'D's body and make a proper estimate of his withdrawal time!" Russel reached under the table and Katsu sidled up to him, purring loudly as he received another scratch on the back. "Remind me to buy your cat some treats next time I go out. _Premium_ treats."

I smiled. Of course, I've always considered myself to have the best cat in the world, but times like this leave me convinced I have the best cat in the galaxy as well.

As Russel and I sat drinking our water and taking turns petting Katsu, I watched the drummer's face. His expression slowly shifted. His mouth settled into a slight frown and his eyes stared blankly at the kitchen's pale wallpaper.

"Is something wrong, Russel?" I asked, hints of curiosity and concern mixed into my measured voice.

Russel was silent for a moment. Katsu looked up at his pale eyes and cocked his head to the side, a gesture oozing with catlike curiosity. The feline meowed encouragingly. After stroking Katsu's head a few times, Russel raised his gaze to meet mine and he started, "Remember how 2D acted before we left the room? Like, when he was talking about how he was done with his pills, and then when he was describing the doc's eyes?"

I nodded. "It was strange, coming from 2D… He seemed so aware, even confident. I can't imagine what's going on in his head…"

"The thing is," Russel continued, his eyebrow creasing as he dropped his gaze ponderously to the tabletop, "I realized, when I saw him like that today, that this wasn't the first time. I've seen him like this before."

My hand twitched and I looked at Russel sharply. "You've seen 2D like this before? When?"

Russel sighed. "I didn't even think about what it might mean when it happened back then… I was already so stressed and confused, and I thought that 'D's change in behavior could've just been the result of other stresses and pains, but looking back, it makes sense that he would have been in withdrawal. But I only saw it for a minute; he left just after that…"

"He left?" I repeated.

Russel nodded. "Yes. A few months after you left"

My eyes widened as understanding dawned on me. "You mean…"

"El Manana." Russel said. "It happened when he freaked out over El Manana."

Russel cleared his throat and began to tell me the story…

. . .

 **So, this is the first chapter I've posted in… What, 3 months? Something like that? Sorry about that. This genius decided that it would be a splendid idea to take two writing intensive classes in the same semester, and as a result has had very little free time. BUT IT'S SUMMER NOW! I'm gonna try to make that my only 3-month-hiatus for this story!**

 **COMING UP NEXT: Storytime with Russel! What exactly happened to 2D after El Manana? What will Noodle learn about her blue-haired bandmate? Find out next chapter!**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Breakfast Records

Disclaimer: See chapter 1

When you told us you wanted to leave… I was sad. We were all sad. But we understood. You were a teenager who couldn't remember over half of her life; you'd tried waiting for the memories, but they never came. You knew – we all knew – that you would have to get out there and find them yourself.

So we planned El Manana. We spent weeks planning that music video, remember? It was one of our most elaborate ones yet. The windmill island, the helicopters, the bomb… It was gonna be spectacular. It _was_ spectacular!

When the filming was finished, we had your going-away party. You were so excited! I remember how you couldn't stop smiling, and even though I was sad to see you go, I found myself smiling too. We were all eating pizza, and you had a map of Japan laid out over the kitchen table. You were tracing your finger over the map, showing us the towns you planned to visit and the routes you planned to take. 2D asked if Japan was really that purple, and we laughed while you explained that purple was just the color the mapmakers had decided to use to color in the country.

Remember how 2D was acting at the party? Happy, mostly, but getting confused every five minutes? He kept forgetting what the party was for! Remember how Murdoc tried to convince him that it was your birthday? Neither of us knew what was going on until 2D ran off in a panic, then came back with one of his favorite zombie DVDs wrapped in a piece of newspaper and tried to give it to you as a birthday gift! After that, you and I made sure to remind 2D that it was a going-away party whenever he started to look confused.

It's still one of my favorite memories of us together. We were having fun, all of us were happy for you, and, despite the birthday prank, Murdoc was being nicer to 2D than usual. But then it was over. We all went to sleep, and the next day, we watched you board a plane and fly away.

Kong was quiet after that. With no new album to work on, we rarely had a reason to be in the same room, and I found myself for the most part on my own. We never at meals at the same time, probably because 2D couldn't keep track of time and Murdoc couldn't be bothered to keep a schedule.

Come to think about it, it was one of the most quiet times of my life. Del had been exorcised from my head just before we began Demon Days, and now that I had neither him nor the band to distract me, I noticed how silent everything was… Silent studio, silent kitchen, silent bedroom, silent mind. I tried to break the silence with loud hobbies, like listening to loud records, using loud tools while I worked on my taxidermies, and cooking sizzling food, but without the sound of people, even the noise felt silent.

The tenth time I accidentally cooked more food than I could eat (which is really saying something – you know what my appetite is like), I decided I'd had enough of the silence. I marched to the basement, dragged 2D out of his room, and sat him at the kitchen table to eat pancakes with me. I make it sound forceful, but he seemed to enjoy the company. Said he couldn't remember when the last time he saw me was, which wasn't surprising. Anyway, we started to talk, and it turned into a pretty nice conversation. Mind you, 2D forgot what we were talking about frequently and zoned out multiple times, but the simple fact that he was happy to see me was enough to make the conversation feel worthwhile, and the kitchen felt a little less quiet.

It became a pattern after that. I would fetch 2D from his room each morning and we would have breakfast together. Most of our conversations consisted of me reminding 'D of things he'd forgotten. He'd ask if you were coming to breakfast, and I'd remind him that you were in Japan. He'd ask how we were going to finish Demon Days without you around, and I'd remind him that we'd already finished Demon Days. He'd tell me that he couldn't remember what Demon Days sounded like, so I'd put on our Demon Days record (I'd decided to move a record player permanently to the kitchen counter after the third time 2D had brought Demon Days up) and we would listen to the album together. This was usually when our conversations started to get deep. 2D may not have had the brainpower to have a normal conversation or keep track of a topic, but I found that he's actually very good at talking about how he feels in the moment. As we listened to each song, he would hear it like he was hearing it for the first time, and he would tell me how the song made him feel. It was a bit jarring at first, since I had always expected that his feelings would be very simple, on par with his intellectual ability. But as he'd speak, I'd realize that there's a lot going on in his head, emotionally. He just doesn't usually understand it, or know the words to express it.

2D and I grew closer during that time. I understood him much better, and even if he couldn't remember most of our conversations, I think some small part of 2D's subconscious was picking up on our breakfast pattern. I helped 'D set his watch to start beeping at around 8am, so that he would be awake when I came down to fetch him. After that, I always found him dressed and waiting, as if he knew he were expected somewhere and just needed me to remind him where.

One day, Murdoc stumbled across us listening to Demon Days. Apparently, he'd been looking for 2D so that he could give him his pills and then drag him to some bar (Murdoc took 2D to bars frequently to be his wingman – women would approach them because 2D was attractive, but end up attached to Murdoc when they realized he was smarter). He sat down with us for a while and had some pancakes. 2D looked nervous at first, but eventually he relaxed and started talking about the music and his feelings again. After that, Murdoc would join us for breakfast two or three times a week. We didn't get along all the time, but it felt great to have the three of us at the table together. I was happy. For the first time since you'd left, we were behaving almost like a family.

I thought that we'd finally found a good pattern, and that we would be able to stick together until, someday, we could welcome you back home.

Then, the problem began.

Apparently, after weeks of listening to Demon Days at breakfast, parts of songs were finally beginning to stick in his memory. Specifically, parts of songs which he had strong emotional reactions to. El Manana was one of them. Whenever we listened to El Manana, 2D would talk about feeling distressed, like he was losing something, like there was someone he needed to find. It occurred to me that some part of his brain might be making a connection between the song's theme and your absence. You and 2D had always been close; even after weeks of having breakfast with the man, the time we'd spent together was far outnumbered by the hours you two used to spend watching movies, playing games, listening to music, and just hanging out in the studio. I remember how you used to gravitate towards him when you were little; aside from you, he was the youngest member of the band, and he was always up for fun and games when me and Muds just wanted to nap or drink. I realized that if 2D was already subconsciously attached to our breakfast routine, his subconscious attachment to you was probably enormous. A part of him was missing you very badly, and he didn't even realize it. But subconscious feelings have a way of making themselves known, and not long after I figured out that 2D missed you, he began to have nightmares.

I woke up one night to the sound of screaming. I rushed downstairs in panic, fearing that a zombie had gotten into Kong and attacked one of my bandmates. It took me less than a minute to reach 2D's room where I saw that Murdoc, who had reached the room before me, was yelling at the shaking singer.

"It was just a nightmare, Dullard!" Muds shouted. "Get over it! Noodle is fine!"

"B-b-but…" 2D stammered, his knuckles white as he clutched a pillow to his chest, "I s-saw… explosion… Noodle… Sh-she f-fell, and there was f-fire and… and… Sh-she's hurt! We h-have to f-f-find her! W-we have to… _Owww…_ " 2D reached up to run a hand over his forehead.

Murdoc slapped 2D across the face. The singer yelped and cringed, scooting to the far corner of his bed.

"Muds!" I scolded, grabbing a fistful of the bassist's shirt and yanking him away from the poor singer. "Slapping him ain't gonna help, man! Go get his pills while I talk 2D out of this!"

Murdoc scowled at me before he turned, grumbling, and strode stiffly out of the room. I turned back to the singer, who had buried his face in his pillow. His shoulders were shaking.

"Hey, 'D," I said gently. Reaching out slowly, I placed a hand on 2D's shoulder. "Everything's fine. You've just had a nightmare."

2D lifted his face from the pillow. Tear tracks plunged down from the pink rims of his swollen eyes, and his teeth chattered with sniffles as he cried, "I s-saw her fall, Russ! Sh-she needs help! We… We need to… we-"

"Shhh, hey man, Noodle is fine. She's travelling in Japan right now, and I can prove it. Do you want to see the postcard she sent last week?"

Trembling, 2D nodded.

"Wait here. I'll be right back."

I rushed upstairs to the kitchen, where a small stack of letters and post cards stood propped against the record player. I grabbed the postcard on top of the pile and rushed back downstairs. On my way back to 2D's room I met Murdoc, who was lumbering out of his Winnebago with a pill bottle and a glass of water in his hands. He glared at me, and we entered the room together.

2D looked up desperately as I handed him the postcard. He snatched it quickly and his eyes tore over the image of a red-roofed pagoda looming over an aquamarine lake. He flipped the card over, squinted, then handed the card back to me. "C-can you r-read it, Russ? M-my eyes can't focus."

Murdoc rolled his eyes as I accepted the card back and began to read,

"2D, Russel, and Murdoc,

"Hi! I found an excellent sushi shop today; it's much better here than it is in the U. K. I'm collecting recipes so that I can make some authentic Japanese dishes for everyone when I come back. The pagoda on this card was a bit touristy – half of it is a gift shop – but it is beautiful nonetheless. Maybe someday Gorillaz will have a concert in Japan, and I can show you all the wonderful places I have found here!

"Love & hugs,

"Noodle."

2D's eyes had gone spacey. I imagined that in his mind, he was seeing you eating sushi with a smile, rolling your eyes at a pagoda giftshop, and pausing for a moment to admire the serene landscape. His sniffles quieted and the tension left his body. He rubbed a hand over his eyes, wiping away the remaining teardrops.

"Are you ready to take your medicine and go back to sleep?" I asked.

2D nodded. _"Finally,"_ Murdoc muttered, thrusting the water into 2D's hand and popping two pills out of 2D's bottle.

After that, 2D calmed down and went to sleep. The next day, he didn't remember the nightmare, and we talked and listened to music as usual over a dish of waffles and eggs. Murdoc didn't show.

I had hoped it would be an isolated incident, but the next night, 2D had another nightmare. And the night after that. And the night after that. Night after night, I would rush to 2D's room and talk him out of his tears. I began keeping the stack of postcards on 2D's nightstand so that I wouldn't have to run upstairs to retrieve them. Murdoc, who quickly got tired of dealing with 'D, gave me a bottle of the man's pills so that he wouldn't have to get up and help. Each day, I grew more and more tired.

One night, I slept through his screams. I didn't mean too; I simply didn't wake up. You know I'm a heavy sleeper. After nights of interrupted sleep, my body reached its limit and decided that it wasn't going to wake up for anything.

When I woke up that morning, I felt good at first. After all, it was the first full night's sleep I'd had in a while. Then it hit me… I hadn't been there to help 2D recover from his nightmare! I ran out of my room and dashed down the stairs, feeling dread pool in my gut. I was prepared to find the poor, petrified singer huddled in the corner of his room, driven half mad out of heartbreak.

What I found was much worse.

The door to 2D's room was flung wide open. Inside, the place was a mess. I mean, his room was always a mess, but this… His bedside lamp had been smashed, 'D's bed spread was strews across the floor, there were dents and holes in the drywall. And in the middle of the floor, beaten black and blue…

It was Muds.

Murdoc Niccals, who had overpowered and beaten up 2D more times than I could count, was laying unconscious on 2D's floor with dried blood under his nose, a black, puffy eye, and numerous bruises, including one particularly large one on his head.

2D was nowhere to be seen.

I ran around Kong for an hour, calling for 2D, but I couldn't find him. I could only wait until Murdoc woke up and ask him what had happened. In the meantime, I dragged him into a restroom, washed the blood off his face, and carried him to the kitchen table.

Muds woke sometime in the afternoon, cursing and moaning about how it felt like his ribs were broken (it later turned out that many of them were). When I asked him what had happened the night before, his healthy eye went wide. He told me of how, when 2D wouldn't stop screaming, he had stormed into the singer's room with the intent of slapping some sense into him. Muds was taken by surprise when 2D, jumping to the conclusion that Murdoc was trying to stop him from finding Noodle, went into some sort of mad frenzy and attacked the bassist. Caught off guard by the singer's intense reaction, Murdoc hit the floor after 2D smashed a lamp against his head. The crazed singer had continued to pummel Murdoc, and the last thing Muds could remember before he went cold was 2D shouting about how he was going to leave Kong and find Noodle himself.

I felt sick as I realized what kind of mess we were in. 2D was having a breakdown, he was incapable of taking care of himself, and he was missing.

The first thing I did was call the local police. They showed up, did a quick search of the house, and asked some questions about 2D's mental state. Upon confirming that this was a valid missing person case, they organized a few search teams. The teams stayed local; there were no cars missing from the garage, so we assumed that 2D couldn't have gotten very far. I joined in the search, but Murdoc, due to his injuries, had to stay at home. He was more concerned than I expected him to be, and nagged me to take 2D's pills along when I did my search so that 2D could take his medicine as soon as possible.

At first, the search parties were extremely enthusiastic. Everybody wanted to be the one to find the missing celebrity! It was annoying to hear people talk about what it was going to be like when they found the poor, lost singer – some of them had very detailed, romantic rescues planned out, which they described passionately. However, a week passed, and we found nothing. It was summer, the weather was hot and muggy, and it rained constantly, so the search teams quickly lost morale. Our numbers dwindled. People lost hope.

Then, we got the tip – a man from a neighboring city had heard about the search, and recalled picking up a blue-haired hitchhiker wearing sunglasses at around 4 a.m. The hitchhiker had asked to be dropped off in a very odd place – on the side of an empty road a few miles out of town, next to a cliff which hung over what, at night, had appeared to be a large yard of trash. It didn't take long for me to realize that it must have been the site where we filmed El Manana.

I, the police, and a few remaining volunteers met at the site and began to search through the rubble. For 24 hours, we crawled carefully over the mounds of earth, metal and bricks, our hands and clothes becoming coated in clods of wet dust and ash. It was a large site, and after the week's heavy rainfall, the K9-Unit was unable to pick up any trace of the man. With no solid evidence that 2D had even been there, the search was abandoned.

I came back the next morning, alone. I climbed to the top of a tall pile of garbage and watched the sunrise. I'll admit, I was crying a bit. 2D gets into enough trouble when left alone for a single night… What kind of trouble must he have been in after a week of being on his own?

Was he even alive?

At around 8am, I began to feel hungry - I hadn't eaten much that week, and breakfast was calling me. I opened my satchel and was about to pull out a muffin when I heard a noise.

A high-pitched, steady beeping noise.

I recognized the noise. It was 2D's watch.

In a burst of energy, I scrambled over the hill, figuring out where the noise was loudest. I found a large metal sheet and, kneeling down, began to lift it up. It was a heavy sheet, heavy enough to trap a man beneath its weight. Sure enough, when I lifted it, I found 2D.

The man was a mess. Coated in mud from head to toe, his clothes clung wetly to his frame, accentuating his shrunken stomach. At this point, he hadn't eaten in a week, or taken pills. There was a brown puddle by his head; I imagine he had to drink that dirty water to stay alive. As he came into view, my heart nearly stopped at the sight of him – I thought he was dead. However, a moment later, his head shifted sideways and he looked up at me with those haunted black eyes…

I tossed the metal sheet to the side and kneeled down next to 'D. He didn't say a word while I straightened him up into a sitting position and forced him to drink some orange juice and eat some of my muffin. Then I took his pills out of my satchel. The limp man suddenly went rigid. Before I knew what was happening, he had slapped the pills out of my hand. They rolled over one end of a mostly-buried metal pipe and disappeared under the ground.

"'D, what the heck, man?" I said, struggling to reign in my anger for the sick man's sake. "You haven't had any medicine in a week! Your head must be killing you!"

D looked up at me, and his eyes… They were intense, more focused than I'd ever seen them. I could tell that he was in physical pain from the hissing way he breathed, and the way he clenched his jaw, but… Well… From the look on his face, I could tell that his emotional pain was more intense than anything else.

"She's dead, isn't she?" He croaked, his voice hoarse and hopeless. "I tried to find her… But I couldn't… She's gone…"

"'Man, how many times do Muds and I have to tell you; Noodle is fine! El Manana was just a music video! This rubble is just a stage, and Noodle is travelling in Japan, having the time of her life!"

2D's breath hitched. "Wh-what?" he rasped, disbelief etched into his face.

Wordlessly, I reached into my satchel and pulled out a stack of postcards. 2D accepted them with muddy fingers. His eyes, focused for once, skimmed over your neat handwriting, drinking it in. His eyes closed, and he sighed.

"Come on, 'D, lets get you home."

2D tensed. "Is Murdoc home?"

"Yeah, he'll be in his Winnebago. He's been sulking there all week since you beat him up."

"I beat him up?"

"Yeah, man!"

"…good."

I grimaced. 2D had never struck me as the vindictive type, but the expression he wore left no doubt that he felt no regret. "'D, what's gotten into you, man?"

2D scowled. "Nothing. I'll go back to Kong with you, but don't tell Murdoc I'm back. I don't want to deal with him – _rrrrr!"_ 2D growled in pain, clutching his head.

"Shouldn't have smacked your pills away," I commented.

" _Just take me home!"_

2D and I didn't talk much on the ride back to Kong. The man was in a mood I'd never seen him in before, dark and angry and pained. The oddest part, though, was how _aware_ he seemed. He didn't forget why we were in the car. He didn't forget how he was feeling. When we got back to Kong, he reminded me (although "threatened me" would be a more fitting term to describe his tone) not to tell Murdoc he was here. While 'D got a shower, I called the police station and told them that 'D was okay. It took a while to answer all their questions. About an hour later, I headed downstairs to check on 2D.

He had finished his shower, changed his clothes, and _packed a bag_.

"I'm leaving, Russ," He said, taking in my surprised expression as he slung his bag over his shoulders. "I've already booked plane tickets. Thanks for looking after me, but I've got to get away, and I'm not telling you where I'm going. I don't want Murdoc to find me."

"You booked plane tickets…?" I echoed, failing to comprehend how my perpetually confused bandmate was standing in front of me now with a packed bag and a tone of unmistakable seriousness.

2D opened his mouth, but shut it quickly. A pained groan hissed through his teeth and his fingers ran through his hair. He looked like he was having a monster headache. "'D, let me get you some pills-"

"No!" 2D snapped, his hand fisting in his hair. "Goodbye, Russel," He said, striding past me out of the room. I was too shocked to stop him.

A couple hours later, as I sat at the quiet kitchen table, I briefly considered filing another missing person report… I mean, this was still 2D, the man who couldn't think straight, couldn't remember anything, couldn't function without help!

Wasn't it?

But there was something about the way he looked when he left… The way he behaved…

I decided against it.

2D was gone. The next time I would see him would be when I walked into a record store and saw a poster with a picture of him and Murdoc and the title "Plastic Beach" hovering over their heads…

. . .

 **Coming Up Next: Noodle digests the story of 2D's post-Demon Days episode! Do the events of 2D's past hold a hint to his future?**


	7. Chapter 7

_Chapter 7: THEM?_

 _Disclaimer: See chapter 1_

I stared at my fingertips as they brushed over the tarnished linen on the kitchen table, tracing a round, mucky stain which might have been coffee. I could tell that Russel was watching me; years of cohabitation had taught me to recognize the tingle of his eerie gaze. He wanted to know what I thought of his story.

It was a lot to take in… 2D, my long-time friend, possibly even my _best_ friend (goodness knows I've told him my most perturbing thoughts in conversations he can't remember), had endured a soul-crushing mental breakdown out of concern for me… and it only took me about a decade to find out. Part of me didn't want to bother with Russel and I's conversation anymore. I was itching to ditch the kitchen, bolt upstairs and drown 2D in a hug so tight he'd never wonder where I was again! The poor singer had suffered too much. Even if he could barely remember his past pains, I wanted to make sure they were positively snuffed out of his mind and replaced with the knowledge that I was beside him, whatever may come. Propriety could go jump in a ditch; I needed to let 2D know that I'm here, _now_!

Instead of breaking into a mad sprint, I breathed deeply and reminded myself that Dr. Khalan needed time to evaluate 2D. I would see him soon enough, but right now, my attention had to stay at the table with Russel. Grounding myself in the patterns my finger followed across the tablecloth, I allowed my newfound separation anxiety to take a backseat as I finally met Russel's gaze. "How come you never told me any of this before?"

"I… well…" Russel paused, the lines of his forehead deepening as if he were confronting thoughts he couldn't quite comprehend. "It was strange… We met Muds and 'D at that trashy excuse for a beach, and 'D… he was even worse than before! Remember how Muds had started giving him up to four pills at a time? How hard it was to work him back down to 2? 2D was such a mess. He couldn't even watch zombie movies anymore, he just stared at walls! Truth is, I'd started to doubt what I thought I'd seen in 2D before he left… I could've sworn he'd gotten sharper, wiser… But there he was, more stoned than ever before. Once I started doubting that, I didn't know what to believe. What if all my ideas about his mental state were wrong? Maybe he didn't get smarter; he might've just been caught up in some crazy mania! Heck, he might've been possessed! I didn't know what to tell you because I didn't understand what was going on. I was full of self-doubt, swimming in it. And the real kicker was that it might as well have never happened! 2D didn't seem to remember. Murdoc didn't seem to care. You were trying to focus on steering 'D from 4 pills per headache to 2, and just seemed to have so much on your plate… I thought I might as well just let it lie."

I nodded, taking in the tidepool of emotions washing over Russel's face. "And now? Do you still feel that self-doubt?"

Russel's luminous eyes flashed. "No. What we've seen in 2D tonight… I know I've seen it before. I know I saw it then. Something's going on in 2D's head, something I wasn't ready to believe was there before. I'm ready to believe it's there now. And right now… More than anything… I'd like to march into whatever prison they've got Muds holed up at and ask our dear bassist what the hell he did to make that spark in 2D's mind disappear at plastic beach."

The sight of Russel's fist clenching over the tabletop reminded me to relax my own tense shoulders. _Breathe in… breathe out._ "I'll definitely be having a long chat with Murdoc when the prison gives him permission to phone. It seems that he was woefully mistaken when he led us to believe that 2D's mind could never function, and I would like more details on how he brought 2D to the state he was in at Plastic Beach. Not to mention, he could have told me about 2D's breakdown."

Russel sagged a bit at that statement. His eyes sunk towards his chest. "Noods… I understand if you're mad at me. I shouldn't have kept this from you-"

"It's okay, Russel," I quickly reassured. "Minds are delicate, and 2D's not the only one who's allowed to get confused. I wish you'd tried to tell me something earlier, but I understand that all the uncertainty in your head was causing you a lot of stress, and stress hurts."

"Darn right it does," Russel replied with a hesitant chuckle. I smiled at him across the table, and he grinned back. His fist loosened.

The kitchen settled into an easy silence, permeated by the fluttery purring of Katsu as he dozed beneath the table.

. . .

As many breathing exercises as I did, I couldn't stop the anxious wave that rolled through my stomach when I heard Dr. Khalan's footsteps pattering down the stairs. Judging by the frown on Russel's face, his guts felt similar.

We met Khalan in the foyer, Russel holding the recovered pill in his palm and Katsu weaving around our ankles, whiskers pricked with an expression of unmistakable pride.

 _(breathe in, breathe out.)_ I schooled the nerves out of my voice. "What do you think of 2D's condition?" I asked Dr. Khalan.

The doctor smiled gently, if a bit sadly. "Well, I'd estimate that your friend is in for a long couple of days. In the time I was up there with him, his headache seemed to be building, and I can't imagine it'll be much longer before cravings begin. However," she said, her tone brightening, "he has a strong support system of two devoted friends, and that makes all the difference in these situations." Under her smile, I felt a spark of warmth rekindle in my chest. "I'm glad you called me in, and not just because it gave me the chance to treat a celebrity," Dr. Khalan teased wryly. "It shows that you two will do whatever it takes to help Mr. Pot through this, and I'm confident that with your help he'll make it out of the woods in one piece."

I could feel my clammy insides warming up, my nerves dispersing to leave room for determination. "Thank you so much for coming, Dr. Khalan."

"No problem, dear. Serving the sick is my passion. Now, what's this young lad got in his hand?"

Russel's mouth twitched into a grin; it wasn't too often that anyone called him a "young lad" these days. "Noodle's cat found one of 2D's pills. We thought you might appreciate not having to scoop a sample of dissolved meds out of D's toilet."

Dr. Khalan beamed. "Wonderful! What a clever kitty you are." Katsu looks ridiculously smug as the doctor scratched his ears. "Now, let me see that pill."

Russel held the pill out to Dr. Khalan.

The doctor froze.

It was as if every muscle in her body had gone rigid. Her eyes were fixed upon the pill, small and white and green against Russel's dark palm. She didn't even seem to be breathing.

The room suddenly felt cold. I had a bad feeling about this.

Slowly, Dr. Khalan reached forward, plucking the pill from Russel's palm with careful fingertips. "This looks like…" she murmured, her voice dropping off as she held the unlabeled pill closer to her eye. She studied the object, her lips curving downward as I began to feel slightly ill. "Oh dear… dear, o dear, o dear… This is not good, not good at all…"

"Dr. Khalan?" Russel prompted warily.

The doctor jumped slightly, looking thoroughly unsettled. Her gaze rounded on me and Russel and she let out a long breath. "This type of pill… I believe I've seen it before. I can't be entirely sure, but… If this is what I think it is… Poor Stuart's situation may be more serious than I thought."

 _Breathe in, breathe out._ I struggled to keep my heart-rate level, even as I saw Russel shudder out of the corner of my eye. "Is the pill for a serious illness?" I asked, my mind jumping through worst-case scenarios of what Dr. Khalan's reaction might mean. "Does it have a particularly painful withdrawal process?" _Or maybe there is no complete withdrawal… Maybe it's altered his mind so badly that he'll be left with permanent damage…_

"To be honest, I don't know exactly what the pill is or how it works." I frowned at Dr. Khalan's apologetic grimace. "If this is what I think it is, then I've only seen it once before, many years ago... I received a call from a homeless man, who claimed to have acquired his phone from a woman going through some sort of withdrawal and urged me to go help her. When I arrived at the address, a condemned house on an empty, derelict street, the homeless man wasn't there, but the woman was. She was in great pain, and I recognized the symptoms of withdrawal quickly. I made the poor dear as comfortable as I could manage, then did a quick search of the house to try and find what she was in withdrawal from. I found a stash of pill bottles, containing pills which looked like this one, under a magazine in the corner of a room downstairs. The labels on the pill bottles didn't provide a scientific name for the medicine; they were simply labeled 'head pills.'

"I stayed with the woman for a few hours, hoping that someone would come by who could take care of her. Nobody came. I worked full time at the hospital those days, so I had to be on my way. I promised the woman that I would be back when my shift ended…" Dr. Khalan shivered. Her lips twitched. "I should have called the police, or taken her to the hospital with me… I had assumed that she had a good reason for going through withdrawal on her own; maybe she had a fear of institutions, and being under constant observation somewhere would have made it worse. But I was so wrong… So, so wrong… Anything would have been better…" A short sob escaped her throat. She snapper her jaws together, shaking her head fervently before continuing, "When I came back the next evening… _She was dead."_

My blood turned to ice. Distantly, I heard Russel gasp. My chest felt tight, like my ribs were rubber bands squeezing inwards, constricting my heart in a wind of cold, cruel rings, squeezing tighter, tighter, tighter…

The woman died…

That means… _2D…_

"She had been murdered."

 _What?_!?

Dr. Khalan fixed Russel and me with a grim stare. "I thought I had this feeling… This strange sensation that someone was watching me, when I had been with the woman at first. But I brushed it off, wrote it down to nerves, being alone with a drug addict in an abandoned building and all. But when I saw that poor woman with a bullet wound in her chest - And no gun to be seen, so it couldn't have been suicide - I realized that there probably had been someone watching me that whole time. Waiting for me to leave."

For a long moment, the foyer was quiet, the air thick and ominous. It was Russel who finally broke the silence, saying, "Well… I'm sorry to hear about that… That's not a pretty scene to see." Russel would know, having witnessed the body of his best friend sprout bullet holes shortly before said friend died and possessed the drummer, but that's another story entirely. "What does that have to do with 2D, though? Her cause of death wasn't a pill, it was a gun!"

Dr. Khalan shivered before focusing her somber eyes upon the large drummer. "Whoever killed the woman took the trouble of stealing the pill bottles. I had left them where I found them, under the magazine, but they were _gone._ Nothing else had been taken; just the pills and the woman's life. A few days later, I heard that the police had interrogated a homeless man about the killing – quite likely the same homeless man who had called me – and he had been sobbing, ranting about how he thought he had hidden her well enough, how he thought she would be safe from _THEM_. How _THEY_ wanted her to keep taking the pills, and how _THEY_ would be angry, very angry, that she had stopped. The police thought he was raving. Would've arrested him, too… Had he not been stabbed in the streets shortly after his interrogation. The police never did figure out who killed either one of them."

My heart stuttered. "You think…" I paused for a moment, painfully aware of the slight tremor in my voice, "that the woman was killed because she tried to get off her pills?"

Dr. Khalan's gaze turned to me. The sorrow on her face said it all.

Fear and skepticism spun across my mind. It sounded outrageous… But after years of confronting ghosts, zombies, demons, and spirits, the outrageous had become the norm for Gorillaz. It was possible, then… Likely, even… That 2D was in great danger.

But even so…

"This THEM that the man spoke of…" I murmured, halting for a moment to gather my thoughts. "I can't think of who THEM might be. There's no group of people I can think of who've ever confronted 2D about his pills, no one who's ever sent him warnings or threats about what might happen if he stopped. The only person I can think of who's ever insisted on 2D taking his pills…" I felt an unsettling quiver in my chest as I thought back to my last phone call with Murdoc.

He had seem oddly concerned with 2D's pill supply…

I shook my head. "They wouldn't kill 2D over his pills. Not kill him…"

Russel frowned, shooting me a sideways glance. I got the feeling he knew who I was thinking of.

Dr. Khalan frowned too. "You never did mention where Mr. Pot gets his pills from. Might I ask where, or from whom?"

"Our band's bassist provides the pills," Russel supplied. "I don't know where he got his doctor's certification from, but he has one."

"And would you say that your bassist is an upstanding, reputable man? Someone who respects the law and his fellow man?"

 _Someone who's currently in prison, who has been in prison before, who hit 2D with his car and has been beating him up ever since…_

 _Who doesn't beat up 2D quite as much as he used to. Who is in prison for something he didn't do. Who, when push comes to shove, is our bandmate._

 _Who I don't trust completely._

 _Who I can trust enough for this._

"He wouldn't kill 2D," I said firmly. "He's flawed, yes. Violent, even. But he's been angry at 2D before. If he wanted to kill 2D he could have done it ages ago."

Dr. Khalan held my gaze. Her hazel eyes darted between mine, her mouth was pursed in a grim line. "As a doctor, it is my duty to make sure my patients are well cared for and safe." Her eyebrows furrowed. "As a friend, it is your duty to do likewise for those you care about."

"I understand," I replied unwaveringly.

"I am going to write you a prescription for non-addictive painkillers to take the edge off Mr. Pot's headaches without interfering with his withdrawal. It will then be your job to stay with him, give him his painkillers, and _keep him safe_. Safe from anything. Safe from anyone."

I nodded, not breaking eye contact.

I knew my bandmates. I knew how much I could trust them. I knew how to protect them. I was determined to do whatever it took to spare 2D from as much pain and fear as possible. He's already had too much pain and fear in his life. From now on, I would keep him safe.

 _I promise I'll keep you safe, 2D._

Dr. Khalan finally looked away as she reached into her purse to grab a pad of paper, upon which she wrote 2D's prescription. She handed the paper to Russel. "Why don't you hop down to the pharmacy, young lad. It seems your friend is up to the challenge of watching over Mr. Pot." I was surprised when the doctor graced me with a small grin. "I may not trust this bassist you tell me about," she murmured, "but I think I'm willing to trust you, and that'll just have to do for now."

. . .

As Dr. Khalan and Russel left the house, I darted upstairs, Katsu close on my heels. 2D's door had been left ajar; I gently opened it wider and slipped into the room. There he was, curled up and facing away from the door, shifting restlessly in an uneasy sleep. He laid over top of his covers, which were twisted and wrinkled from his earlier fit of panic. Sweat glistened on his damp skin, reflecting the yellow lamplight from his nightstand, seeming to shimmering as he trembled.

Katsu jumped into the room, ducking beneath 2D's bed before emerging on the other side and leaping onto the windowsill. He gazed out into the night, his tail twitching back and forth as he stood sentry for the room. My thoughts drifted back to Dr. Khalan's words…

" _There had probably been someone watching me that whole time… THEY would be angry, very angry…"_

I felt a chill race down my spine as I thought about the mysterious THEM. I still couldn't think of any organization who might have a special interest in 2D's pills, and I honestly didn't think Murdoc was capable of killing his bandmate over the issue. Even if Muds didn't appreciate 2D nearly as much as he ought to, he still needed the singer if he ever intended to make more music. Besides, from Russel's story, it sounded likely that when Murdoc had forcefully recruited 2D for Plastic Beach, the singer would have been off his pills for a while. Murdoc certainly hadn't been kind to 2D then, but the man was still alive.

Maybe the woman Dr. Khalan had tried to treat was simply mixed in with the wrong crowd. Maybe THEY were nothing more a figment of an unhinged homeless man's imagination. Even so… I couldn't shake the feeling that there was something bad going on. The mysterious pills, 2D's hushed-up withdrawal, a woman killed… The facts wouldn't lie easy in my mind. It all felt too wrong.

I might not be ready to understand our situation just yet, but I would do all I could to keep 2D safe.

I approached 2D's bed, the floorboards bending and creaking underfoot. 2D seemed to shrink as I approached, his body curling tightly like a scared armadillo. "No… No, Muds, go 'way… I don't want anymore pills… don't make me… don't-"

"2D," I whispered, bracing my palms against his mattress as I brought my face close to his ear. "It's Noodle, 2D. Muds isn't here. You're safe. Nobody's going to make you do anything you don't want to do."

His watery, black eyes flew open. 2D wheezed as his eyes met mine. "N-n-noodle… you're here…"

"Yes, I'm here, 2D. I'm going to stay here and help you as much as I can, so that you can get better."

"Noodle… It's… It's cold," 2D whimpered. "It's all dark and cold and it hurts…"

"Let's get you under your covers, then," I suggested, grasping the corner of a duvet that was almost falling off the bed. I allowed the corner of the fabric to gently brush the skin of his arm. "Does this feel okay? Does the blanket irritate your skin?"

"Cold…" 2D murmured once more, his eyes squeezing closed.

I continued to pull the blanket over my friend, making sure the fabric fell over him softly. My knuckles ghosted over 2D's hand, and I frowned when I felt how icy his skin was. Making a quick decision, I said, "2D, I'm going to crawl onto the bed next to you to help you warm up. Is that okay?"

The singer didn't seem to hear me, wrapped up in his own world of pain and ice. I eased myself onto the bed, trying not to shift the mattress too much. Slipping under the duvet, I slid forward until I came into contact with 2D's back. I began to wrap an arm over him, and he tensed. I paused, wary of causing him pain, but in the next instant he relaxed, tilting backwards to sink into my embrace. "That's warm…" He breathed, some of that desolate tone from before freed from his voice.

"Does that feel better?" I asked.

"a'little."

I extended my arm farther until it was wrapped around his chest, my own chest nuzzling into his side. 2D turned his head sideways, as if to warm his face in my hair. I caught a pained expression on his face. "How do you feel, 2D?

His jaw clenched, twitching against my hair. I felt a shiver travel down his spine. "I… I don't need pills…" he groaned, his breathing getting rough. "I'm fine… Don't give me pills, I don't need any-"

I hushed 2D, allowing my arm to rise from his chest to his face, the backs of my fingers soothing his cheek and ending his speech. "I'm not going to make you take any pills, 2D. I _promise_. But could you please tell me how you're feeling?"

2D shuddered. His shoulders shook as he opened his eyes slowly, almost fearfully, to meet mine.

He stared.

I saw my own eyes reflected in the glassy black surface of his. His gaze didn't waver. It was focused and still… These weren't the eyes that slid and swayed as he watched zombie movies; these were the eyes that had looked at Dr. Khalan earlier and seemed to reveal a piece of her soul…

2D stopped shaking. His face still looked pained, but that trace of fear was gone. "It hurts. My head… It hurts so bad… And it hurts a little everywhere. It keeps going up and down… I'll feel better for a minute, but then it feels so much worse… It won't stop, it just keeps _hurting_."

My heart ached at the forlorn notes in his voice. "I'm so sorry you have to go through this, 2D," I whispered.

"Not your fault," 2D whispered back. He laid still for a moment, dragging in a hoarse breath, then asked, "Noods… can… can you talk to me, like you did last night? To help me not think about my head?"

"You remember last night?" I said curiously.

"It's fuzzy… but… You were there, right? I wasn't just imagining it?"

A small smile crept over my face. "Yes, I was there. I'll be there whenever you need me." I quickly skimmed my thoughts for a topic to talk about, and settled on Russel and I's earlier conversation. "Earlier tonight, Russel was telling me about how you guys used to hang out after Demon Days was released. You would eat breakfast together and talk, and sometimes listen to music together." I decided to leave out the parts where Murdoc joined them; since thinking of Muds seemed to agitate 2D in his current state. "Russel said that you were good at talking about how the music made you feel. It reminded me of how the two of us used to listen to music together, and sometimes watch movies together, and talk and have fun. Maybe, when you're feeling better, the three of us can all listen to some music together. I'm sure Russel would be happy to make us a big, tasty breakfast and let us borrow one of his cool record players."

2D grinned. "That does sound nice."

I snuggled closer to 2D, moving my hand over his shirt to warm the parts of his chest which still felt clammy. "Russel said that he felt bad for forgetting to tell me about all the things that happened while I was traveling in Japan. It sounded like a lot happened while I was gone, and Russel got confused by all the different things he saw… I had to convince him that it was okay to be confused and stressed. He didn't need to be ashamed of how his stress was causing him pain. I think he felt better after talking to me about it."

2D continued to pull in strained breaths. One of his hands was at the side of his face, rubbing his temple as he occasionally winced, tremors darting up and down his spine. I could feel his hand move against my hair since the singer's face was still tucked just above mine, and I could hear his voice right next to my ear as he whispered, "What about you?"

My eyebrows pulled together, confused. "What about me?"

2D made a noise somewhere between a chuckle and a wheeze. "You… you have so many things that you keep inside of you. Like… you're always so calm on the outside. Unshakable. But… sometimes… rarely… You say something, and I can never remember what it is you say, but it sounds like you're telling me something deep, and I think you feel better when you share. But usually, you're like…" He paused for a moment, his face scrunching. "You're like a flower bud," He finally finished with a sigh.

"A flower bud?" I repeated, twitching my face towards his and hoping he would notice how confused he was making me.

2D smiled. "It's like… Inside, there's this flower. The flower is colorful and exciting; it's full of petals that can fly in a wind, and shades that are deep and passionate, and it's _beautiful_. But it stays in its bud. The bud is beautiful too; it's this rich green color, and it's strong and calm. It protects the flower, because the flower feels stronger in the bud, less delicate, less vulnerable. But… That flower's got to breathe. It's got to see the sun sometimes, or else it will start to feel tight, and stressed, and forget that the light is out there. You're so strong, Noodle… And you want to protect. That's what I could see, just a minute ago… I was scared, but I looked at your eyes, and they were so green, and I saw a flower bud, and it wanted to protect me. So I knew I could trust you. You've been strong for me and Russel both, and I love the way you care and protect so much. And I want you to trust me too. You… you don't need to be the flower bud all the time, you know? You can be the flower too. I saw it in your eyes."

I was speechless. Here I was, trying to comfort my hurting friend, when he says what might very well be the most beautiful thing I've ever heard him say. I felt suddenly very warm, a warmth that started deep in my chest and radiated outward until it rose to my cheeks. "2D… If I'd known you were that eloquent without your pills, I'd have forced you through withdrawal years ago."

2D let out a small laugh, which turned into a short whimper as one of his hands flashed to his chest and ran down over his stomach.

"2D?" I asked, concerned.

"Just keep talking… _Please_ keep talking…" 2D groaned, squeezing his eyes shut.

I frowned. He was in so much pain… But that hadn't stopped him from trying to find a way to help me. Who knows, maybe hearing about someone else's feelings would help him forget about his own. Taking a deep breath, I thought about the recent events which had brought me so much stress, all the emotions I had felt welling up within me but had tamped down for the sake of strength and composure. If I could trust anyone with my feelings, I could trust 2D. "I have been very stressed lately," I admitted. Squirming subconsciously, I found myself tucking my face into 2D's neck. He didn't seem to mind, and it felt comforting, so I continued, "There's so much to worry about, and so much uncertainty. We don't know what exactly those pills have been doing to your body, and how bad this withdrawal is going to get. It's frustrating, because I just want you to feel better again, I want to protect you from this pain, but all I can do is stay nearby and watch it take its course. I feel…" Thoughts, emotions, and desires flashed through my mind, my desire to help my bandmates, to be the strength my friends could rely on, to be the barrier which kept disaster and pain far away, and underneath it all, the knowledge that as hard as I tried, things kept going wrong. "I feel powerless," I admitted softly, ducking my head so that my nose fell into the crook of 2D's neck.

I felt a hand ghost up my side, cool, sweaty, but comforting nonetheless. "Noodle, you're one of the most powerful people I know," 2D murmured, his voice silky as it drifted over my head. "you've always had the power to make my pain lighter when I'm at my worst, and you… I feel so much stronger when I'm around you. Doesn't matter if you choose to be a bud or a flower… You always make me feel stronger."

That warm feeling kept coming back, pulsing out of my chest and making me want to smile. "Thanks, 2D. as long as my presence helps you feel stronger, I'll be right by your side."

I felt 2D smile against my hair. "Good to know you'll be by my side forever, then."

. . .

 **THE PLOT THICKENS!**

 **I'd like to give a big shout-out to everyone who's reviewed, favorited, and followed this story so far! It's super encouraging to see that people are enjoying this story! Thanks a bunch!**

 **COMING UP NEXT: 2D's Withdrawal enters its worst stages! Can Noodle and Russel guide the pained singer through this trying time? Plus, more thoughts on Murdoc and the mysterious THEM…**


	8. Chapter 8

_Chapter 8: Through the Darkness_

 _Disclaimer: See chapter 1._

There was a routine I had gotten used to over the years. 2D gets a headache, we give 2D his pills, and if his pain is especially bad, I distract him until the medication kicks in. It's not fun to see him in pain. However, I always enjoyed watching it fade away. The tension would drain out of his muscles, his teeth would unclench and he'd sigh with relief, his body and mind would relax. A small, pain-free grin would creep onto his face just as the drugs pulled him into his dreams.

This time was different.

His pills were gone.

His pain got worse.

None of us slept that night.

. . .

I sat against the headboard of 2D's bed, watching as my friend wheezed and dug his nails into the pillow he had crushed into his chest. About a half hour ago, his cold sweat had morphed into a raging fever. The covers had been thrown off, revealing the sorry sight of his damp T-shirt clinging to his rib cage. Dim yellow lamplight pooled over his curled form, illuminating the puddle of wrinkled sheets he laid upon.

Katsu sat in my lap, purring softly as I stroked his head. It was a small comfort to feel the cat rest against my belly as I kept my eyes fixed upon the stricken singer.

I talked. 2D hadn't responded to anything I'd said in a while, but his last comment had been for me to _please_ keep talking, to _please_ try to distract him from his head. Even though I couldn't be sure he was aware of anything beyond his own of pain at this point, I upheld our one-sided conversation, breathing whatever thoughts rose through my mind into the empty air in as soothing a voice as I could muster.

"I brought back stir-fry from that shop on Holly Street earlier tonight, the Four Gulls. Remember the night we found the place?" I paused, reminiscing. "I think it was about a week after we moved here. One of Russel's friends who used to live in Manchester recommended it when he heard where we'd be staying. Murdoc had already gone to a pub for the night, but you and I tagged along with Russel to check the place out. When the cab dropped us off in front of the restaurant, Russel saw the menu posted in the window and got bummed out. He thought that the place couldn't possibly be authentic if they claimed to have specialty dishes from four different countries! I was about to tell Russel that we could go someplace else, but then you saw that they had fortune cookies and begged us to stay and eat there! Russel was pretty hungry, so he didn't put up much of a fight. I was just glad to see you excited… You'd been feeling down since we moved; I know you hate how long it takes for you to remember where everything is after we get a new house. Anyway, the food at that shop turned out to be really good! The owners happened to be in that night and we got to meet them! They had such a cool backstory. The four of them had met in their early twenties while they were traveling. They each came from a different East-Asian country, but they ended up staying at the same hostel in Madrid. They each knew a little bit of Spanish that they had memorized in preparation for their travels, and they decided to go out to a pub together and bond over churros and chocolate. That's when they discovered that they were each passionate about food! After that first meeting, they traveled together for a long time before finally deciding to open a restaurant together in Manchester.

"It reminds me of us a bit, you know? The four of us met in such strange ways… First you and Murdoc with the car accident, then Russel, who wanted a fresh start after his friends died in that shooting… And then there's me. A kid in a crate. A child soldier who was supposed to be scrapped when the Japanese government's super-soldier program shut down. None of it sounds like it should be real… Sometimes I can barely believe it myself; the events that brought us together sound more like some crazy soap opera than reality. But here we are…"

2D hadn't moved at all throughout the story. He was sill just as tense, just as sweaty, just as pained – scratch that; he was whimpering more frequently. The pain was definitely getting worse.

I looked down when Katsu's weight shifted in my lap. His pointed ears twitched. A moment later, I heard the distant creak of footsteps on old, wooden stairs. The sound grew closer and closer until Russel's face appeared in the crack of the doorway.

Russel paused for a moment, his eyes seeking mine. I waved for him to come in. I could tell as he opened the door wider that he was trying to be careful about it, but the aged hinges couldn't be dissuaded from spitting out a callous shriek which pierced my ears and caused 2D to cringe, squeezing his pillow ever more tightly into his chest. Russel grimaced apologetically before treading gently into the room, a plastic bag clenched in each fist. One of the bags I instantly recognized as the one I brought back from Four Gulls earlier in the evening, which I knew still contained a Styrofoam box full of 2D's uneaten dinner. The other bag was decorated with a large letter P enclosed in a green square. After a moment's thought, I remembered that this was the emblem for Phillip's Twenty-Phour hour Pharmacy, the same place where Russel gets medicine to help with his cholesterol.

"Hey, Noodle-girl, sorry it took so long… All the other pharmacies were closed for the night, and this couple in line spent nearly an hour complaining about how their prescriptions weren't filled yet. I brought up D's dinner since he hasn't eaten yet today, and the pills Dr. Khalan prescribed are supposed to be taken with food anyway. How's he doing?"

"Not very well," I responded, glancing at the blue-haired man as he whimpered into his pillow. "I can tell that his pain's getting worse."

"Well," Russel said with a small smile, "At least we're not helpless anymore. Now that we've got his new prescription, we should be able to take the edge off his pain." The drummer's gaze shifted from me to 2D. "Hey, 'D, can you hear me? There's some tasty stir fry over here just for you, and something to make your head feel better!"

2D didn't respond.

I raised my hand and allowed my fingertips to brush lightly over 2D's wet hairline. Black eyes snapped open and took me in as I greeted them with a sympathetic smile. "Hey, 2D, I need you to get up. You need to eat."

2D squeezed his eyes shut. "Can't… eat… I c-can't move my h-head… Hurts t-to m-much…" The words hissed through his teeth, his jaw firmly locked in place. I felt my own jaw ache just from watching him.

"Hey, 2D, I know it hurts… I'm so, so sorry that you have to go through this… But you have to keep your strength up so that you can get better. Can you do that for me, 2D? Can you stay strong and eat a bit of dinner?"

The man whimpered. His eyes opened slowly. I had to hold back a shudder as his gaze tore into mine, pain written clearly in his dark circles and tears gathering along his eyelids. And there was something else - this feeling - It was like something was reaching out to me from the darkness in his corneas, something desperate, something crying… Something breaking.

"Noodle…" He groaned, my name quavering in his throat. "I can't… I just c-cant…"

"Hey, D," Russel cut in, his voice rumbling deep and smooth. "We can make some of the pain go away. I just picked something up from the pharmacy for you."

2D's gaze flickered towards Russel before returning to me, confused. I offered the singer a small smile before explaining, "Remember when the nice doctor visited a few hours ago? Dr. Khalan?"

2D's eyebrows scrunched together in thought. "Is she… Is sh-she the one with the h-hazel eyes? The ones that looked like trees?"

"Yeah, that's right!" I encouraged. "She helped us find some new medicine for you. Do you want to try taking some? I think it might help with your…

I cut my sentence short when 2D blanched, his eyes going round with panic. "N-no… nonononono…"

"Hey, hey…" I soothed quickly, leaning towards the singer and resting my hand over his shoulder. "It's okay; no one's going to force you to take the pills; I promise."

"H-he'll make me take them," 2D hissed. "Murdoc… He's… He's going to get back from the p-pub… and h-he's going to be m-mad… he'll make me take them… he'll…"

"Mud's won't be back tonight, 'D," Russel soothed. "He won't be back for a long time. He's in jail, not out at the pub. Whatever you're worried about him doin', it's not going to happen."

2D was so scared… It made me sick to think of how terrified the bassist made him. However, I also felt a bit confused… Why was 2D so fixated on how Murdoc will react to him ditching his pills? I mean, yeah, Murdoc will get mad at 2D for pretty much anything when he's in a bad mood, but I can't remember them ever having a huge fight over the pills. Why is he so convinced that Murdoc will be mad at him for this?

My hand slipped past 2D's shoulder and traced gently along his arm, feeling the warm sweat on his pale skin. "Russel's right, 2D. Murdoc's not around to hurt you anymore. You're safe." Hope sparked in my chest as I saw some of the panic leave 2D's eyes, only to be smothered as 2D's body jerked in a fresh wave of pain. A long moan lingered in his throat.

"Are you sure you don't want to try some of your new pills, 2D?" I asked, careful not to sound coercive. "I promise that these aren't like your old ones. They're non-addictive, which means that you won't feel like you have to take them all the time."

2D whimpered as his eyes squeezed closed. "No… Don't want anything… I c-can handle this… Don't need p-pills… Don't need them." His eyebrows twitched over his closed eyes. He sucked in a heavy breath through clenched teeth, and when he spoke again, there was a note of resolve in his voice that wasn't there before, a hint of steel that was unfamiliar coming from the acquiescent singer. "I _don't_ need th-them. I don't."

. . .

Save for the occasional twitch and hiss of pain, 2D didn't move for the next 3 hours. I sat on his bed and Russel dragged in a lumpy armchair from his room; we were determined to keep vigil for the singer as long as his pain persisted. Katsu dozed in my lap. The only sounds to be heard were the muffled rumbles of car engines on the street and occasional sobs of pain from the singer, which grew progressively worse. Sometimes, Russel or I would talk softly to him, but he never responded. It seemed that our voices were no longer enough to distract him from the plague in his skull.

I was positioned between 2D and his bedside table, upon which two plastic bags lay: the bag with his food and the bag with his pills. The thought crossed my mind to ask if 2D was ready to try eating or taking some medicine, but I decided against it. The last thing he needed was another panic attack.

. . .

At 4:30 AM, 2D's eyes cracked open. The movement was so minuscule that I almost didn't notice, but when the lamplight shimmered momentarily in his dark gaze, I thought I saw him glance towards the plastic bag on his bedside table.

The one containing his new pills.

His eyes squeezed shut once more.

. . .

At 5:30 AM, 2D glanced at the bag again, his eyes lingering upon the package a moment longer than they had last time. He closed his eyes again. He was shaking.

. . .

By 6:30 AM, 2D's eyes had made ten more passes on the plastic bag. What had begun as a slight trembling in his shoulders had evolved into violent tremors which shook him from head to toe, causing the sheets to bunch around his feet. He buried his face into his pillow, hissing desperate phrases I couldn't catch into the plush fabric.

It was scary to watch.

. . .

At 7:00 AM, 2D snapped.

I had almost fallen asleep when the sick singer screamed and threw himself on top of me. Shocked into wakefulness, I turned just in time to see 2D make a grab for the bags on his bedside table.

He tore them open, his nails ripping through the thin plastic, squirming as he dug through their contents. As I steadied myself against the bed's headboard, the muscles in 2D's arm went rigid. He yanked his hand back from the plastic bags, revealing a small orange pill bottle clenched in his fist. With practiced ease (goodness knows he emptied at least thirty pill bottles into his toilet the day before), he popped the cap off the bottle.

The happiness that I felt over him being ready to take his new pills quickly turned to horror as he tilted his head back, ready to dump the whole bottle down his throat.

I sprung into action, twisting around the singer to secure both of my hands around his wrists. Unbalanced, we toppled sideways onto the bed, sending tiny, white pills flying over the sheets.

" _Woah!"_ Russel cried, jumping up from his chair to help me restrain the singer. After a moment of thrashing, I managed to wind my arms around 2D to restrain his arms against his chest. His spine arched against my front and I tucked my head over his shoulder, holding him tightly. Russel had climbed onto the bed with us and was sitting on 2D's legs. The singer wouldn't stop struggling.

"GET OFF!" 2D screamed. "I NEED THEM! I NEED THEM!"

"'D, MAN, KNOCK IT OFF!" Russel hollered back.

Suddenly, 2D's whole demeanor changed. He stopped struggling and began to shiver madly, his breath quickening. I could feel his pulse racing beneath my fingertips. When he spoke again, his voice was small and full of fear.

"I-I'm s-s-sorry… I… I c-can't do it any… anymore… it… I-I… I can't! I need them! It's t-t-too much!"

"Hey, shhh," I comforted, angling my head towards his ear. "It's okay. You're in a lot of pain; we want to help you make your head feel better-"

" _Not my h-head!"_ 2D was crying, his voice full of fear, grief, and pain. "I-It's in m-my… my s-stomach, and… and in m-my chest, and… It's everywhere! It's hungry! I… I need the p-pills, to make th-the h-hunger go a-a-away… S-s-stupid c-cravings…"

So this wasn't his usual injury-induced headache talking – this was the _addiction_.

This was the part of him his new pills might not be able to cure.

Nevertheless, we had to try.

"Hey, 'D," Russel engaged the singer. "Don't worry; we're gonna let you take your pills. But you can't guzzle the whole bottle down at once! The instructions say no more than two at a time." Russel plucked two of the fallen pills off 2D's bedspread. "Look, there's two right here! How 'bout you start with these? There's a nice glass of water on your table, and a bit of food you can take the pills with. How's that sound?"

Tears were dripping down the singer's face. He wouldn't meet Russel's eyes, instead turning his head to face his own lap. "f-failed," he murmured softly, brokenly, in a tone that made my heart clench painfully in my chest. "I-I've failed… I couldn't beat it… everything's g-going to g-go all foggy again, and th-then I won't be able to th-think… I'll never th-think… I'll always be stupid, stupid, stupid-"

"Hush, 2D," I stopped him with a whisper. "You're not stupid. You're very brave and very strong. Russel and I are going to help you take the pills so that you don't get hurt, and we're going to stay with you, because we care about you, no matter what, whether you take pills or not."

2D's expression remained downcast as Russel moved to grab the glass of water, then raised the two pills to 2D's face. "Are you ready to take your pills, 'D?

2D raised his head but kept his eyes lowered as he opened his mouth. Russel popped the pills onto his tongue. I loosened my arms from around 2D, letting my hands fall down to his waist so that his arms were free to accept the glass of water from Russel and swallow the pills.

Russel smiled at the singer. "You're doing okay, 'D. You'll feel better in no time. Now how about some food to go with those pills?"

2D grimaced. He had an odd look on his face; a cocktail of confusion and frustration. The singer's Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed a couple of times. "They're wrong," He uttered softly, his voice barely rising above a whisper.

Russel tilted his head, confused. "What's wrong, 2D?"

"Th-the p-pills… They're wr-wrong…" I could feel fresh tremors traveling through 2D's body. His eyes were wide and his lips were trembling as he continued to murmur, "They're not my pills… They're n-not the ones that I n-need… I h-have to get my old ones b-back…"

"Your old ones are gone, 2D," I told him gently, "we only have these ones."

2D was shaking his head. "N-no… I n-need them… I… I can't keep g-going… I n-need them! _I need them!"_

2D was struggling again, his skin slick with a fresh wave of sweat, crying out his cravings to me and Russel. I tightened my grip on 2D's chest while Russel pinned down the singer's hands.

"The c-cravings h-hurt!" He wailed, his voice cracking. "Please, I n-need the old p-pills! _Please!_ It h-h-hurts, hurts so bad, please m-m-make it s-stop! _I need it to stop!_ "

"I'm sorry, 2D." I whispered, closing my eyes. My head was pressed against his cheek, and I could feel the tears raining down his face. "I'm so sorry."

. . .

In between the singer's fits, Russel managed to fork a couple bites of food into 2D's throat. His meal wasn't even a quarter of the way finished when he protested that he would be sick if he had to eat anymore. The tremors didn't stop, the pain kept coming, and the cravings kept tearing 2D apart.

. . .

As morning dawned, Russel and I decided that if we were going to keep watching the singer, we would have to take shifts. Thus, I found myself alone with a shaking 2D at 9 AM, having been promised that I would get the chance to sleep when Russel woke some time in the afternoon. At 9:02, my cell phone began to vibrate. I wearily dug the device out of my pocket, planning to turn it off as soon as I made sure the call was from no one important.

When I saw that the call was from the Manchester Police Department, I decided I ought to answer.

Scooting off 2D's bed, I moved to the corner of the room and faced away from 2D as I answered the call in a hushed voice. "Hello, this is Noodle."

"Good morning, Ms. Noodle," a familiar feminine voice answered. "This is Officer Jackson from the Manchester police department."

"Good morning, Officer Jackson," I greeted as I recalled my last encounter with the officer. "Is this call about Murdoc? Has he done something illegal in prison?"

"What?" Officer Jackson replied, sounding confused. "Oh, no, this call has nothing to do with anyone in prison. I'm conducting an investigation on a missing person. A woman disappeared early this morning, and I have reason to believe that she visited your home last night."

"A missing person?"

"Yes. Her name is Doctor Jade Khalan."

My breath caught in my throat.

"Doctor Khalan was last seen by a coworker at a lab in Manchester Regional Hospital at 6 AM this morning. Both herself and the medicine she was conducting tests on in the lab were gone by 7 AM. We don't know the exact nature of the medicine she was handling. Since the medicine disappeared with her, my investigative team has classified identifying the medicine as a top priority. One of her co-workers believed that she had obtained the medicine from your home. Can you identify it?"

I took a deep breath and braced a hand against the wall, suddenly feeling a bit light-headed. Dr. Khalan was missing? And the medicine… That must be 2D's pill!

I couldn't help thinking back to the tale Dr. Khalan had shared about the woman who had been murdered while going through withdrawal from a similar medication.

"I think I know what type of medicine Dr. Khalan was working with," I told Officer Jackson. "When she visited my house, she was treating a friend of mine who's going through withdrawal from an addictive type of headache medicine. She left with the last of my friend's pills."

"Can you give me the name of your friend's medication?"

I sighed. "Sorry; his pill bottles aren't well labeled. That's why we had given the pill to Dr. Khalan; we were hoping she could identify it for us."

I thought I heard Officer Jackson curse in a hushed voice. I shared the sentiment. "Do you have any more of your friend's pills that we could collect as evidence?"

"Sorry; no. We searched the whole house for them earlier. Dr. Khalan had the last one." And we had flushed the toilet full of pill residue hours ago.

"I understand… Is there anything you can tell me about your friend's pills? Do you have any idea what they're made of, or where they come from?"

I paused.

I bit my lip.

I don't know where 2D's pills come from… But I know someone who might.

Making a quick decision, I cleared my throat.

"You arrested a man last week," I said, "named Murdoc Niccals. He's… another friend of mine, and he might know where the medicine is from."

"Right… Thank you for your cooperation, Ms. Noodle. If you remember anything else about your friend's pill or Dr. Khalan, please, don't hesitate to give me a call."

"Of course."

. . .

Day 2 of 2D's withdrawal came and went. His fever hit a high point and stayed there. His tremors came and went in vicious cycles: one moment he would lie as still as possible so as not to aggravate his head; the next moment would find him thrashing and crying out for his old pills. He sweated, he trembled, he whimpered and he wailed. I watched, wishing I could do more to help him.

Russel woke at 4 PM and came to take his shift. I told him about the phone call and Dr. Khalan's disappearance, and he agreed that I was right to tell the police to question Murdoc. Neither of us want Murdoc to get in trouble over this; we just want Dr. Khalan to be found. Before I left 2D's room, the singer consented to taking another one of his new pills. Hopefully, if we can keep him taking a pill every twelve hours, we'll get some of his headache pain under control.

As I try to fall asleep, I think about the murdered woman Dr. Khalan tried to help all those years ago…

When I fell asleep, I had a nightmare that the murder victim was 2D.

. . .

Day 3 was similar to day 2. More pain, more tears, more cravings. 2D's having trouble holding food down; he threw up the eggs Russel tried to feed him in the morning, along with the pill he had taken with the eggs.

2D slept on and off during the afternoon. His sleep was not peaceful. Pain followed him even as his body shut down, and he had nightmares. He murmured throughout his nightmares. Sometimes I could figure out what he dreamed about from his desperate sleep talking; other times I wondered what exactly he was picturing in his head.

"Car… hurts… M-my eyes… Murdoc…"

"N-no… Noodle… the windmill… b-bombs…"

"Whale… w-watching… why w-won't it j-just go away…"

"Why… Murdoc… t-terrible… beach…"

"Hurts here… s-stop… make… stop…"

"Why… doing this… Murdoc… can't… pills…"

"Just… w-want it… to stop…"

. . .

On Day 4, we fed 2D simple foods, mostly saltine crackers and plain, dry cereal. He kept it down.

He slept a little more, but the nightmares are still in full swing.

His head seemed to hurt a little less… Maybe the new pills were working…

His cravings were as strong as ever.

. . .

But the cravings seemed a little less intense on Day 5…

. . .

On day 6, he only had one nightmare. His headache seems to be receding, although it comes back when he's having a craving.

The police stopped by, and I gave them permission to let their dog try to sniff out any more of 2D's old pills. All they found were empty bottles and an old baggie in Murdoc's room that used to contain something illegal.

. . .

2D slept for most of Day 7. He was probably exhausted after struggling with headaches and cravings for a week. We woke him up twice to eat food and take pills. He whimpers in his sleep. He mumbles once or twice.

. . .

When dawn touched the sky on Day 8, 2D groaned as he woke up…

. . .

 **Do you think the plot will wind down once 2D's withdrawal is over?**

 **NOPE!**

 **WERE. JUST. GETTING. STARTED.**

 **Coming Up Next: After a torturous week of withdrawal, where will the new day find our beloved singer? Will there be any news on the missing Dr. Khalan? Will Murdoc ever cease to be an enigma to his bandmates? Stay tuned to find out!**

 **(By the way, most of this story so far has been super painful and depressing, but from here on out, there will be many more happy, adventurey, exciting, and fun scenes! Future chapters will see phase 5 in full swing, so give your favorite songs from The Now Now another listen, watch those music videos, and GET HYPE!)**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9: Green Run**

 **Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.**

The eight day of 2D's condition fell on the Sunday before St. Patrick's Day. Every year on this day, the city of Manchester hosts a parade to kick off a 2-week-long festival of Irish culture and celebration.

I have never hated bagpipes so much.

I jumped in my chair as the shrill cry of a bagpipe bit into my ears, annihilating my peace like a taser to the face. Rushing to the window, I spotted a cluster of plaid-kilted players gathered on the street in front of our house. They stood cheerfully in a broad circle playing scales on their instruments.

It was bad enough that they had disturbed _my_ calm, but what really had me worried was the likelihood that the loud, shrill sounds would cause 2D to wake up with a killer headache. I reached towards the window, intending to open it and order the group to find somewhere less populated to practice… Then I heard a groan. Too late… 2D was waking up.

I cursed inwardly as I cast my eyes over the groggy, blinking man, mentally preparing myself for his too-familiar whimpers of pain. To my relief, 2D appeared untroubled as he slowly raised a hand to rub his eyes, yawning as he did so. 2D dragged his black gaze towards me before murmuring, "'Morning, Noodle. What… What's that noise?"

He didn't seem to be in much pain this morning. Of course, he'd only just woken up, but the relaxed look on his face was a good sign. "There are some people with bagpipes outside," I explained, "practicing for the parade later today. Don't worry about them; I was just about to ask them to leave so you can get more sleep-"

"Parade?" Suddenly, 2D was wide awake. Covers flew into the air. He careened out of bed, his clumsy legs stumbling to keep him upright as he plunged towards the window.

"Whoah, 2D!" I cried in shock, stepping forward to catch the unsteady man. He toppled towards the glass, his palms flailing until they landed on the cool surface with a clammy _thwap._ "Take it easy!"

2D didn't seem to hear me. He stared out the window, eyes wide, jaw hanging loose, nose pressed into the glass. I felt a jolt of concern as he sagged forward, but the man stayed on his feet, the window bearing his weight.

"2D?" I tapped his shoulder, but he didn't respond. He continued to stare fixedly out the window. "'D? Can you hear me?"

"Wow," 2D breathed, taking in the view as if it were paradise. I watched as his gaze roved from the pale blue skyline to the dusky gray rooftops of the houses across the street, absorbing the fresh light of the sun leaping out of the horizon before landing on the lurid green garb of the rosy-cheeked bagpipers. He closed his eyes for a moment, as if to let the sounds of the morning wash over him: the shrill music and jovial chatter of the players, the twee-ing and chipping of the birds, the low thrum of engines as people drove towards the center of town, preparing for the festivities. 2D smiled, his teeth peeking out between his lips as sunlight fell over his pale face.

I reached forward, gingerly dropping my fingertips onto his wrist. No sooner had my skin touched his than the singer's arm prickled with goosebumps. 2D twisted to face me, his sleep-matted hair bouncing and framing a rapturous smile. "Noodle!" he shouted, his hands flashing out to grasp my shoulders. "Noodle, everything's so _beautiful!_ Look outside, it's so clear and colorful and amazing!"

His grin was almost childish in his amazement, and I couldn't hold back a smile of my own. His hands felt warm and strong on my shoulders and he looked more happy to be alive than I had seen him all week. "Someone's feeling good today, then?"

"I feel _fantastic!"_

This was definitely a nice change from the past week. However… I couldn't help shooting the pills on 2D's nightstand a sideways glance. I'm sure Dr. Khalan would have told us if the new pills had any weird side effects, but… well…

He's _kind of_ acting like someone tripping on acid.

"2D, are you sure you're feeling…" _Normal, balanced, not-on-trippy-psychadelic-happy-drugs…_ "alright?"

"I feel better than ever!" Next thing I knew, I was wrapped in a gigantic, smothering hug, my face pressed into a swatch of soft-yet-sour-smelling pajama shirt which really needed to be washed. Rather than gag at the somewhat unpleasant smell, I took the opportunity to check his heartrate, turning my head so that my ear pressed into his chest through the shirt's thin fabric. I focused on his soft heartbeat, hearing it thrum steadily. Perhaps a bit fast, but that made sense considering the man's excitement. As far as I could tell, 2D was completely healthy.

 _Healthy!_

I hugged 2D back, feeling a swell of happiness. "I'm glad you feel better today, 2D."

"Couldn't have gotten better without you," he replied sweetly.

I grinned at that. "Well, we're not out of the woods yet. Your body is going to be weak after laying in bed for seven days, so we need to make sure you take things easy for a while. I can go check if Russel has started breakfast. you probably shouldn't try the stairs until you've had some time to walk and find your balance, so I'll bring something up for us to eat. Maybe Russel will join us and we can all have breakfast up here today! Sound good?"

2D took a step back. I looked up to meet his eyes…

 _Woah._

Why does he look so horrified?

"You think we should _stay up here?"_ he squawked.

"Umm… yes."

" _Inside?_ _Right here?_ In _this house?"_

Honestly, the way his voice got squeakier with each word he spoke was a bit funny. "Yep," I said, holding back a chuckle.

"But there's a _parade_ today!"

I quirked an eyebrow. "Yes. And how does that affect our breakfast?"

" _We have to go see the parade!"_

Wait, _what?_

Hold up…

2D has just gotten over withdrawal.

He hasn't moved all week and can probably _barely_ _stand_.

And he wants to go to a _parade?_

"2D… I'm not so sure that's a good idea."

2D pouted. "Why not?"

I rolled my eyes. "You've been sick all week-"

"But I feel great today!"

"And I don't want you to overexert yourself."

"We can come back home if I start feeling tired, I promise!"

"The parade will be full of loud noises."

"So?"

"Loud noises tend to set off your headaches."

"Only when I already feel nauseous!"

"Your muscles will be weak after spending the whole week in bed."

"They're holding me up now! Besides, isn't this a good way for me to start building up my strength? If I rest more, my legs will just keep getting weaker! Look at me now, I'm full of energy! And my legs are steady; they're not shaking or anything! And if I get too tired while we're out in town, we could always stop at a pub or take a cab back to the house! This is the first thing I've been excited about all week! Can't we at least give it a try?"

For a moment, I stared blankly at 2D. He stared back, his chest heaving as he recovered from his mini-rant.

 _What has gotten into 2D?_

The excitement I could understand.

I could even understand why he wanted to see the parade. He's always been attracted to festivities.

What I couldn't understand was how 2D, the rarely-cohesive, not-very-intelligent (no offense buddy, but it's true) man I had known for about twenty years was suddenly coming up with _legitimate, sensible reasons_ as to why he should be allowed to go to the parade.

It was downright _freaky_.

My train of thought was broken when a devious smirk crossed 2D's face. "Well, if you want to stop me from going to the parade, you'll have to catch me!"

The singer darted towards the door.

He made it about 2 meters before I had him pinned to the floor.

"What was that you said?" I chuckled, my amusement temporarily overtaking my concern as I sat on his back. "Something about catching you?"

2D looked shocked with one side of his face smooshed against the floorboards and his wide eyes spinning towards me. "Wha- hey, you're not allowed to tackle me! I'm ill, remember?"

"You seem to think you're healthy enough to go to a parade."

2D proceeded to pull of one of the most sorrowful puppy-dog-eyes that I have ever seen. "Pleeeeeease, Noodle?"

I gave him a hard look. He gazed back at me with gleaming, pleading black eyes.

I really shouldn't let him out of the house.

His mind and his body have to be terribly weak after last week.

And his behavior is _beyond_ strange this morning.

The most reasonable thing to do would be to put 2D back in bed, ask Russel to make him a big breakfast, wait for the singer to calm down from his current hyper-enthusiastic mood, and maybe, _maybe,_ if the man was still feeling healthy come this afternoon, let him take slow walks around the house to start building up his strength.

I turned to 2D.

I met his hopeful, imploring eyes.

I heard his gentle, earnest voice.

"Please?"

. . .

I made him shower first. And shave. He'd been lying in bed all week, so he both looked and smelled like a hobo.

I also made him eat a quick breakfast while I left a note on the kitchen table, telling Russel that 2D and I would be at the parade.

When I met 2D at the door a half-hour later, the man smiling and bouncing on his heels with excitement, I realized that giving in had never felt so good.

. . .

"Come on, let's go!" 2D cheered, sprinting out of the house.

"Slow down before you hurt yourself!" I replied, catching him as he nearly faceplanted after tripping over a rise in the pavement.

Since half of the main roads in Manchester were blocked for the parade, 2D and I would be traveling on foot towards the city center. It was over a mile north, but the walk would give me the chance to make sure 2D was holding up before we were packed into the thick of the festival.

The man was practically spinning as he walked, trying to look at all his surroundings at once. We weren't anywhere near the parade yet, but wonder spilled over his face as if he were a child going to a theme park for the first time.

As worried as I had been about letting 2D out so soon after his withdrawal, I couldn't keep hold of the stress as I watched him frolicking over the pavement. I was even starting to feel a bit excited myself. I mean, this _is_ a parade we're talking about! Thousands of people packed into the city center with the sole purpose of having a good time. Come to think of it, it's been far too long since I last let myself have a little fun. I've been so busy taking care of 2D, trying to keep Murdoc out of legal trouble, and worrying over the future of Gorillaz to consider taking a day off. And, boy, could I use a day off.

"You'd think we'd never let you out of the house before," I laughed as 2D ducked into an ornate flower bed, curling his hand delicately around a yellow tulip.

"This feels so _cool!_ 2D gasped, letting his fingers brush over the flowers, pausing as he found the fluffy leaf of a lamb's-ear plant. "Noodle, feel this!"

I humored him, crouching down to pet the soft plant. My thumb left tracks in the plant's delicate down, forming patterns of pressed white fuzz. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched 2D as he gently stroked his leaf, his fingers deft and controlled as they followed the appendage to its stem.

 _His fine motor control is excellent this morning,_ I thought to myself. _His control over his hand movements now are even better than they are when I've seen him play his keyboard… Interesting._

It was good to know that 2D's body was functioning well. It was strange to know that, on the new pills, 2D's balance and control seemed to be improving exponentially. Mind you, I had expected that 2D wouldn't be quite the same after switching pills, but I had assumed that the main changes would be in his ability to manage headaches. I hadn't considered that his physical abilities would improve this much. I think I'm starting to like these new pills… I'm also starting to wonder what on earth could have been in his old ones that had left him with too little balance to stand up straight.

There was a buzzing sound in the air… 2D cocked his head to observe a green airplane as it emitted deep-emerald smoke, skywriting until the image of a shamrock hung high over our heads. 2D smiled.

 _He's also more observant than usual… 2D from two weeks ago would have ignored that noise._

I'm definitely liking these new pills.

"Noodle, check out that plane! Wouldn't it be incredible to be the pilot of one of those things? Noodle?"

I grinned as his eyes turned towards mine. "Yeah, I bet it would be."

. . .

" _Noodle!"_ 2D shrieked in horror, "we forgot to wear _green!"_

The crowds were converging now, huge groups of families, pubcrawlers, and partygoers thronging towards the city center. They were bedecked in green hats, green shirts, green socks, and various other forms of green apparel. As 2D had pointed out, our own outfits lacked the St. Patrick's Day spirit.

"Look, there's a merchandise stand up ahead," I pointed out. "I brought cash, we can get something to wear up there."

Normally, I'm not fond of "fitting in" with a crowd. In fact, I rather like standing out. However, somewhere between 2D's impromptu hunt for four-leaved-clovers and the break-dancing man in a leprechaun outfit 2D and I stopped to watch, I had become just as excited as he was.

A quick purchase later, 2D and I were wearing matching, plushy green scarves bespeckled with rainbow-colored shamrocks. We alternated between laughing at the most ridiculous outfits we could spot in the crowd and teasing each other for how horribly our scarves clashed with our own outfits.

"I think this shamrock matches your favorite pair of socks," I chuckled, prodding one of the shapes on 2D's scarf, a bright magenta one.

2D smirked in reply and said, "Yeah, but you know what would really tie together your outfit? Take a look at that guy's fake beard!"

I howled at the sight of the passerby's traffic-cone-orange monstrosity of a beard, which trailed along the ground as he waltzed through the crowd. 2D laughed too, doubling over and gasping for breath between peals of pure joy.

As the crowd thickened around us, I took 2D's hand so that we wouldn't get separated. We slipped through cracks in the packed streets, stopping occasionally to ogle at creative outfits and street performers, gradually working our way towards the starting point of the parade.

When it began, we stood shoulder to shoulder with the most lively members of the crowd lining the street, cheering on a dancing stream of leprechauns, marching bands, floats and dance schools. 2D made an adorable 'aww' noise when a group of five-to-ten-year-olds from O'Connors Academy of Irish Dance marched past us, stopping to perform a quick jig and giggling amongst themselves before moving on. I cheered when a local tae-kwon-do school (whose students were all wearing kilts, of course) put on a brief show of their skills. We both jumped for joy when a troop of girl scouts jumped off their float and handed out chocolate hobnobs to the crowd.

"I'm glad you talked me into coming here; this is awesome!" I shouted over the noise of the crowd, smiling at 2D.

"Best idea I've had all week, isn't it?" He shouted back.

"It's the only idea you've had all week!" I laughed.

"Well, there'll be more where this came from!" He said with a wink. Squeezing my hand, he added, "I'll make us a whole calendar of parades; we can go to a new one every week!"

"Great! It'll be a nice change from having nothing planned for months on end!"

2D guffawed. "Have our lives really been that dead? I can't remember much before last week…"

"Dead as dust," I replied. Then I realized… "Hey, when you say you don't remember much before last week… how well do you remember the last couple of days?"

"I had toast for breakfast yesterday. The day before was cereal, and the day before that was crackers." I must have looked flabbergasted, because 2D started to laugh. "I know, right? It's weird, 'cause I usually wouldn't even be able to remember what I had for breakfast two hours ago, but… Noodle…" His voice turned softer, but none the less happy, his eyes shining. "I think these pills are helping with my memory. Or, at least, they aren't messing up my memory… Not like the other pills…" His smile dimmed. "They always left my mind feeling so fuzzy after I took them."

I frowned. I was happy, of course, that the new pills were already working wonders for 2D, but my suspicions about his old pills were growing. I found myself thinking about how Russel had described 2D's behavior changing when he first tried to quit his old pills. 2D's current coherence matched the description of the side of 2D Russel had briefly seen all those years ago, albeit with a different attitude. Murdoc had always claimed that the worst of 2D's issues were the result of brain damage from the car crashes, but the more I heard and the more I observed, it seemed that 2D's brain wasn't as damaged as we had thought.

It also seemed that the old pills were doing more damage than we realized.

I turned towards 2D, hoping to lighten the mood and bring his attention back to the parade. However, before I could say anything, a strange feeling swept through me.

It was an uncomfortable feeling.

Like a twist in my stomach, a cold breeze against my neck, and a pressure in my head, all rolled up into one.

I knew what the feeling meant, and it wasn't good.

Let me explain… This was something I had learned to sense years and years ago, during my childhood. A time when, as a super-soldier trainee, I had to watch my back, and I picked up some strange skills to help me do so. It may sound ridiculous, but I swear I'm not making this up… I, and the other kids, could _sense_ things, like… when something bad was about to happen, we _knew,_ we could _feel_ it. When someone meant us harm, we could _feel_ it when we met their eyes. And when we were being watched…

"Noodle?"

2D had noticed my silence. I met his eyes and almost instantly his look of confusion went absolutely serious. He leaned forward, his face coming close to mine so that I could hear his low, hushed murmur despite the crowd's loud clamor. "What's wrong?"

"We're being watched," I responded, breaking eye contact to glance at the surrounding people, hoping to catch whoever had brought on this feeling. "And whoever's watching us isn't friendly... I don't know who it is, but I can _feel_ it." Realizing that I didn't sound very credible, I started to explain, "It's hard to describe how I know, but -"

"It's okay; I trust you." 2D's stare was intense; it made me feel like he could read the truth in my eyes. It was simultaneously unnerving and comforting. After a long moment, he broke his searching gaze from mine and his head to scan the crowd with a fake smile on his face. "Smile. Whoever's watching, let's not let them know we're onto them."

I mustered a grin and faced the parade, shifting closer to 2D as I did so. While I stared blankly at the performance of Manchester Secondary School's Marching Band, I thought about all the people in the parade, in the crowd, and in surrounding buildings, all of whom could be watching… But this wasn't just some passerby who wanted an autograph; I could feel ill will in the stare.

"Noodle, look at the gift shop across the street; there's a man standing in front off it wearing green plaid and a brown leather jacket."

I found the man. At first glance, he seemed like any other reveler in the crowd. In fact, he even appeared to have come with his family, judging by the woman and the child standing near him. "What makes you think it's him?"

"His eyes; they're far away, but…" 2D paused, as if considering what his next words should be. "He's not showing anything on his face, but in his eyes, there's something cold and sharp… It's like seeing an icicle before it falls from a roof and hits someone in the head. I can tell he's up to no good. Also, the woman next to him, her eyes are flickering in an uncomfortable sort of way… She doesn't like how close he's standing. He's probably pretending that she and her kid are his family so that he can blend in better with the crowd, and not look so suspicious, but I can tell she doesn't know him. He's not going to do anything to her, though. He's targeting someone else."

Just then, the man's eyes flickered in our direction, then quickly looked away.

In the brief moment he looked towards us, I could feel it, like a breeze getting colder.

It was definitely him.

"I don't like the way he looked at us," 2D murmured. I could feel his hand grasping mine, warm and tight. "Maybe we should get out of sight…"

Just then, the man pulled a phone out of his pocket. He dialed quickly and glanced our way once more, speaking quickly.

2D stepped backward, pulling my hand, and I followed him backwards. Together, we were swallowed by the crowd.

I glanced around us. "Let's make our way up the street; the crowd is thicker there."

"Good idea;"2D agreed. We moved at a brisk pace, slipping between families and avoiding gaps in the street. The crowd paid us little notice, captivated by sights of the parade. However, the occasional passerby would take a moment to glance in wonder at 2D's uncommonly-colored hair, which was woefully easy to spot.

I could still feel the chilling sensation of being watched… The man was probably following us.

"2D, duck down here. Let me wrap your scarf around your hair."

2D obeyed; I quickly unwrapped the shamrock-strewn garnet from his neck and threw it over his cerulean hair. It looked odd, but it would stand out less in a green crowd.

2D straightened up, glanced backwards, and cursed. "I can see him; he's following us. And he's getting closer."

Swiftly, we dodged through the throng of people. "Any idea what this guy is up to?" 2D asked, panting slightly as we moved faster.

"I have ideas," I admitted, thinking back to the warnings Dr. Khalan had left before her disappearance. "Do you remember the doctor who visited this week?"

"Doctor Khalan?" 2D asked breathlessly. "She seemed nice… Why would she have anything to do with this guy?"

"She disappeared. The police called earlier this week about it. Both she and the pill sample we gave her are missing." I paused to take a few deep breaths, feeling the exertion of our chase. "When we last saw her, she seemed worried that there were bad people interested in your old pills. At first, I thought it was a stretch, but considering she's gone missing – 2D!"

2D had stumbled. I slowed our pace immediately so that he could recover. That's when I noticed how heavily he was breathing, heaving lungfuls of air in and out with raw, throaty gasps. His hand, hot in mine, was sweaty and trembling. "Noodle – I don't think I can keep this up –"

Cold fingers fell upon our joined hands.

I felt a shock ride up my spine.

"Follow me," spoke a voice just behind us...

. . .

 **Coming Up Next: How will the St. Patrick's Day chase end? Have Noodle and 2D been met by friend or foe? Find out next chapter!**

 **Speaking of next chapter… Anyone who's following has probably noticed that I'm terrible at updating consistently. Sorry about that. Writing this story is going to take a while… But don't give up on me! Happy holidays!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10: Hide & Seek**

 **Disclaimer: See chapter 1**

"Follow me."

I turned. There was a woman standing there, her eyes dark and serious. Her outstretched hand was placed on mine and 2D's. She looked off compared to the other people in the crowd; her clothes were stained and frayed, a far cry from what most would deem acceptable to wear in public. Her narrow eyes darted from side to side, scanning the busy street. "Quickly," she urged. "They've almost caught up."

I stepped back, tugging on 2D's hand. "How do I know we can trust-"

"We can trust her," 2D interrupted. His hand tightened around mine, but his eyes stayed fixed on the woman's. There was no doubt in that stare.

The woman nodded, then strode towards a nearby alleyway. 2D followed her, his hand pulling mine forward.

We arrived at the mouth of the alleyway. As soon as she had rounded the corner, the woman broke into a sprint, shouting "Come on!" over her shoulder. 2D pulled me along.

"2D," I panted, my breathing still uneven from our previous run, "Are you sure about this person? She could be leading us right into the people we're trying to avoid!"

"I'm – _gasp –_ positive," 2D wheezed as he chased the woman into a gritty side-street. Beads of sweat were forming on his forehead, but he powered through relentlessly, explaining as we ran, "There was – _gasp –_ no harm in her eyes, she _– gasp –_ she's here to help, I know it."

2D's hand left mine. He clutched his side, his breath wheezing through clamped teeth.

"2D?"

"I'm fine," He hissed, "fine… just – a cramp – ah!"

His legs buckled beneath him. I grabbed his waist, slowing his descent as he dropped to his knees.

"2D!"

His eyes were clamped shut, tears forming at the corners as labored breaths scraped out of his throat. His arms trembled as he grasped my shoulder for support. "Noodle – I – I can't – "

"What's wrong?" The woman had returned, her eyes nervously skittering across the street. "We can't stop. We have to get to the safe place!"

"2D can't run," I hastily explained. "He's been bedridden for days. His legs aren't strong."

"Here then," she said, ducking and wrapping an arm under 2D's opposite shoulder, "We'll have to pull him along."

I propped myself under 2D's other shoulder and we started back down the street.

We were moving much slower now. The woman kept shooting glances behind us as we stumbled down the street. 2D was a deadweight, his arm slung heavily over my shoulders and his sweat-slick shirt pressed into my side. We careened into a smelly alleyway filled with dumpsters. At the opposite end was a busy street. "We're just a few blocks away now," the woman said. "We're almost –"

The woman's speech cut off. Somewhere behind us, I could hear footsteps pounding.

The woman swore. "Dammit, they're here!"

I glanced backward. Our pursuers hadn't entered the alleyway yet, but I could hear them getting close. They would round the corner any second.

I glanced at the woman, the stranger, the person 2D trusted on some intuition I had yet to understand. I cursed under my breath.

"Hide," I rasped, shoving 2D and the woman between two dumpsters. "I'll lead whoever's following us elsewhere."

"Noodle!" 2D gasped, reaching out.

His eyes were wide and pale, grasping me with their intensity. For a moment, I froze.

The moment ended quickly when woman yanked backward, pulling him against the wall and ducking low. "Meet me on that block in a few hours," she said, nodding towards the busy street. "If they don't catch you."

2D continued to stare, his mouth working frantically.

"N-noodle, wait – "

His eyes were pleading. It was hard to look away. "I'll see you soon, 2D."

I ran, pausing when I reached the end of the street. As I looked back, a man appeared at the opposite end of the alleyway, flanked by three other figures wearing an assortment of St. Patrick's day scarves, beards, and bandannas. With a shout, the man and his cronies darted towards me.

The brisk wind brushed my empty hands as I leaped into the next street.

. . .

These guys were good.

They had spread out through the crowd, slinking in and out of sight so that I could barely pin down any two of their locations at once. I was pretty sure they were all still behind me, unable to outmatch my pace without drawing attention from the lunchtime crowd breezing in and out of the endless pubs and restaurants lining King Street. I cantered swiftly, keeping my head low and looking for a spot where I could take cover without being cornered.

A figure wearing sunglasses and a green gingham bandanna was keeping my pace a few meters to my left. I strode faster, earning an odd looks from families I rushed past. Up ahead, I could make out a few police officers chatting with a shop owner. Maybe if I could get to them…

A man stepped out of a shop between myself and the police officers. He leaned casually against a wall, pulling out his phone and shooting glances my way as he tapped the screen.

 _Damn – there's more of them._

There was a thick crowd outside a pub called _The King's Flagon,_ thick enough that you couldn't see the people inside from the outside. I squeezed into the throng of people, a few of whom glared at me crossly as we bumped shoulders. For the most part, however, they ignored me, choosing instead to fix their eyes upon a large TV screen where a Real Madrid match was playing.

As I made it inside the pub, a flustered server stepped in front of me, snapping, "Sorry ma'am, the bar stools are full and there's a 2-hour wait on tables – "

"That's fine, I just need to use your restroom." I assumed a pinched face and shifted my legs uncomfortably. "Please? It's an emergency."

"O-oh," He stammered. "Of course… It's, er, just past the stools, take a left and you'll find it."

"Thank you," I replied with a smile, dashing away.

There was a small line outside the restroom. I crouched low against the wall and pulled out my phone, dialing Russel's number. Holding it close to my ear, I heard it ring once… twice…

"Hey, Noodle! I saw your note –"

"Russel, has anyone come to the house?"

"Uh… no. Were you expecting someone?"

I glanced warily around the pub. "Russ, people have been following me and 2D. I don't know who they are –"

"What!? Are you guys okay?"

"2D is safe; I'll be safe as soon as I can shake off whoever's on my tail."

"You guys SEPARATED!?"

"2D's safe; he'll be fine."

"What about you?"

"I'm a highly trained super-soldier, remember? They won't catch me."

I heard Russel groan on the other end. "I don't like this, Noodle."

"I know. It's not ideal. But we're going to meet up soon. I was told to meet someone later today on King's Street, near the center of town. Can you get here? I'm worried that whoever's following us might target you next."

"Yeah, of course. Should I… Should I pack a bag?"

These people hadn't shown at our house yet, but I feared it was only a matter of time. "Yes. Pack 2D's new pills and anything else essential. And try to disguise yourself before you leave the house."

"Got it. Where should I meet you?"

"The King's Flagon – it's a pub on King Street."

"Alright. See you soon. Stay safe!"

"You too, Russel."

I hung up.

I leaned back into the wall, breathing deeply. I could feel my pulse pounding in my throat. The bar around me was calm and warm, a blunt contrast to the chill of worry creeping through my blood. I wanted to close my eyes and relax, to take a moment to order my thoughts and meditate. Instead, I continued to scan the bar warily.

 _Pull yourself together, Noodle._ I watched the new patrons come in, each person who stood from their table, anyone who so much as glanced my way. _Leave out the bathroom window, make sure no one catches you leaving, and you're in the clear._ I froze as a man walked in my direction, only to relax as he put some coins in a jukebox and returned to the bar. _Stay calm. Don't draw attention to yourself. You got this._

My hands tingled, empty and cold. I remembered how, just hours before, I'd been smiling, laughing, holding 2D's hand in mine as he smiled with me. I wanted him to be safe, but I couldn't help wishing I wasn't alone.

 _That woman had better have taken you someplace safe, or she'll have hell to pay when I find her._

I leaned my head back and sighed. 2D had thought she was trustworthy, and his judgement had been pretty sound this morning, right? I hadn't made a mistake in trusting his judgement? In trusting that his recent burst of coherence wasn't just a fluke?

But what if he'd been wrong?

What if we'd both been wrong?

I let my head fall between my knees.

 _Keep it together. Trust him. Trust yourself._

"Miss?"

I looked up. A lady was peeping out of the restroom, looking down at me with concern. "Um… There's an empty stall in here; are you waiting for one?"

I let out a breath. "Yeah, thanks for letting me know."

I stood up, stretching my legs as the lady disappeared behind the restroom door. I could definitely use a rest stop.

I strode calmly into the restroom.

No sooner had I noticed that the restroom only had one stall than the door slammed shut. I spun around as a heavy blow hit my shoulder, causing me to stumble back into a wall. The lady was there, clutching a shining blade which she extended towards my throat.

The lady smirked. "Check mate," she said.

I ducked quickly. The lady slashed wildly, managing to catch my cheek with the edge of the cold steel. I hissed at the sharp pain on my face, gritting my teeth in pain and anger.

 _Keep it together, Noodle. You're a super-soldier. You're strong._

The lady cursed as I hopped out of her blade's range, only to grin as I bumped into the sink – this space was too small for effective dodging.

The lady stepped forward. "Look, just tell me where your boyfriend is, and I won't have to hurt you."

 _Fat chance._

Faster than she could blink I thrust both of my hands forward, locking tightly around her weapon-hand. She yanked her fist away but I held on, using all my strength to try to pry her fingers off the knife.

Her knee flashed toward my stomach. Before it hit me, I used my leg to sweep out the lady's other foot, sending her toppling to the floor with me above her. In her shock, the lady's hands went slack. The blade was mine.

I snatched the weapon from her hands, touching its sharp edge delicately to her throat. She looked at me in panic.

"Who are you?" I asked.

Her expression hardened. "Someone you don't want to mess with."

"Who do you work for?"

"Someone you don't want to mess with."

I growled, pressing the blade against her skin. She flinched.

"Why are you following me and my friend?"

She stared coldly, saying nothing.

 _She's not going to say anything… Maybe her friends have a strict you-squeal-you're-finished policy._ I considered my options. _I don't know if she contacted the rest of her group before luring me in here – they could be just outside, so I need to get away fast._ My gaze flickered toward the bathroom's grimy window. _Looks like it's back to plan A. But I can't just let her follow me…_ I glared down at the lady.

Slowly, I removed the blade from her throat. The beginning of a smile crossed her lips before I knocked her in the head – she wouldn't wake up for a while. I quickly frisked her, hoping to find some form of identification, but she didn't have so much as a spare dollar on her. I pulled out my phone and snapped a picture – maybe I would have a chance to identify her later.

. . .

An hour after I crawled out of the bathroom window onto a (thankfully) empty street, I lounged in the lobby of a boutique clothing store. I had spent the last of my cash on a new outfit, complete with a wide-brimmed hat, sunglasses, and a shimmery gray scarf to cover my face – hopefully, my pursuers wouldn't recognize me so easily if we crossed paths again. The store's staff didn't disturb me; I had told them that a friend would be driving by to pick me up soon. Now, I stared out the window, waiting for –

My phone buzzed.

 _At a stoplight. I'm almost there,_ Russel's text alerted me.

 _Good,_ I texted back. _Remember, go to Bethany's Boutique. The pub is NOT safe._

 _Got it. See you soon._

I stowed my phone back into my pocket.

Russel and I had been texting nonstop since I reached the boutique. He was worried, and I couldn't blame him, considering I could still feel a faint sting from the shallow knife wound on my cheek. I was worried too, but not about myself.

I had left 2D's safety in the hands of a complete stranger. Russel had found 2D's phone in the back of a kitchen cabinet, so there was no point trying to text the singer. Nevertheless, I had to fight the urge to try to call 2D.

 _I hate this. I should be there to make sure he's safe. What if I can't find him later?_

I ran a hand through my hair, skewing my hat as I tried to breathe out the tension in my chest.

 _He'll be okay. We'll all be okay. Trust him._

My phone buzzed again. _I'm here._

I stepped outside the shop, repressing the urge to glance nervously about the street, and walked towards the beat-up gray Lexus parked on the curb. Russel smiled at me through the window; I could make out his chest sinking as if he were releasing a sigh of relief.

I climbed into the car. "Nice fedora, Russel."

He gave me a tired chuckle. "Nice hat yourself. Now, how are we going to find 'D?"

In a few minutes, our car was crawling down the crowded King Street. In the aftermath of the parade the roads were no longer blocked, but traffic still proceeded at a pitifully slow pace. I kept my face low as we rolled past _The King's Flagon,_ wary of being spotted by my pursuers despite my disguise. The streets became familiar. Soon, I spotted a familiar dumpster-filled alley.

"Pull off here. This is where I last saw them."

"Sure thing. Urgh… I hate parallel-parking."

Russel cut the engine then turned back to me. "Should we wait in the car, or go out there and try to find this woman you were talking about?"

I leaned back, thinking. It might be difficult for the woman to find me hidden inside the car, wearing a disguise. Then again, the car and disguise were also protecting me from the pursuers. I felt my cheek throb and tucked the wound deeper into my new scarf. "The sooner we find 2D, the better," I said. I'm going to stand outside the car, if you see anyone approach me –"

My voice dropped off as I saw an unfamiliar figure approaching the car.

The air seemed to grow cold as Russel's hands tightened around the wheel.

"Turn the ignition on," I told him.

The figure continued to approach.

As the car's engine rumbled to life, I saw the figure slow down. He pulled a paper and a Sharpie out of his pocket, scrawling a few quick words before placing the paper on the ground, pinning it to the sidewalk with a rock, and backing away a respectful distance. The man looked at me imploringly, glancing towards the paper then back at my face.

"Noodle, should we go?" Russel prompted.

I hesitated. "I think I need to look at that message… He could know where 2D is."

"Or he could be luring you into a trap!" Russel insisted.

"I can get myself out of a trap, but I won't be able to find 2D on my own," I replied. Russel groaned as I opened the door.

I approached the paper, keeping a wary eye on the mysterious man, who smiled at me.

Picking up the paper, I read:

" _Someone told me his friend might show up in a car like yours. Are you Noodle?"_

I sighed. This was the best chance I had.

I motioned for Russel to join me. As he turned off the car once more, I approached the mysterious man, who continued to smile encouragingly.

"Can you take me to 2D?" I asked.

His grin widened. "Right this way, miss Noodle."

. . .

He led us farther down King Street, into a less crowded area. We turned the corner at a Chinese restaurant and slipped into an alleyway lined with worn doors and barred windows – low-income housing. Our guide approached one of the narrow apartments, pressing the buzzer next to a faded maroon doorway.

"Who's there?" a tinny voice sounded out of the buzzer's speaker.

"It's Dev. I've got our guests with me."

"Excellent. Come on in."

The door clicked. Dev pulled it open and motioned for Russel and me to enter.

I gazed into the dim interior, squinting as my eyes adjusted to the darkness. With a resigned sigh, I spared the smiling Dev one last unsure glance before stepping forward. I heard Russel's heavy footfalls muffling on the thin carpet as he followed me in.

The wet scent of mildew hung heavily in the air. I scanned the derelict scene of peeling wallpaper, tattered carpets, and grimy brass light fixtures. The décor probably hadn't been updated since the house had been built; it held the impression of a great-great-relative's home which hadn't been touched since the first owner's death.

Dev followed us into the building and beckoned past the foyer. At the end of a short corridor was a heavy wooden door covered in chipping white paint. Once again, Dev opened the door for us.

I stole a quick glance at a homey-looking kitchen before something – _someone_ – crashed into me.

"NOODLE!"

My breath caught as thin arms wound tightly around my waist, squeezing the air from my lungs. As soon as I registered the startlingly blue hair of my captor, I returned the embrace, throwing my arms around him and burying my face into his neck. "2D! You're okay!"

" _You're_ okay!" He responded joyfully, leaning back to face me with a broad smile.

I looked into his gleaming eyes, feeling the fondness and relief in 2D's earnest grin before Russel chuckled, "Hey, I'm here too!"

"Russel!" 2D released me to lunge toward Russel with another big hug. "You made it here too!"

Russel laughed, patting 2D heavily on the back. "Man, for someone who spent a week sick in bed then got chased around by evil goons, you seem pretty lively!"

2D laughed back. "Yeah, it has been a weird day, hasn't it?"

"That it has," spoke a familiar, friendly voice from the kitchen table.

Russel and I whipped our heads in synchronous surprise. "Dr. Khalan!"

The old woman nodded, wrinkles forming on the edges of her bright smile, eyes twinkling as she watched us. Sitting with her at the round table were three other people, all of whom wore worn, tattered clothing. I recognized the woman who had guided 2D and I through the streets earlier that day; she cast me a swift smile of recognition. The other two were watching me and my bandmates with calm curiosity.

"I believe we have some introductions to make," Dr. Khalan spoke. "Please, sit down."

We joined Dr. Khalan at the table, Russel and 2D sitting on either side of me. Behind us, Dev strode forward, plopping beside the woman from the street and kissing her on the cheek. The woman smirked. "Cut it out, Dev. This is serious."

"And I did a _seriously_ good job finding them, didn't I?"

The woman rolled her eyes.

"Russel, Noodle," Dr. Khalan started, "I'd like you to meet my good friends: Devante – "

"That's me!" Sung Dev.

"Alicia – "

"Hey." Greeted the woman from the street.

"Tyler – "

"'Sup."

"and Donna."

"Yeah."

"It's nice to meet you all," I said, meeting eyes with each of them in turn. Russel hummed in agreement. I returned my gaze to Dr. Khalan. "So, this is where you've been hiding out? You know the police have been trying to find you, right?"

Dr. Khalan sighed. "Yes; I'm afraid I had to make my escape rather quickly, and I couldn't risk dragging anyone else into this or giving away my position. There are bad people trying to find me, and you as well. It's fortunate that your address isn't well known. I'm sure these people have been trying to track you down for a couple of days."

"Do you know who these crazy stalkers are?" Russel asked.

"Not exactly, but I think I know what they want," Dr. Khalan responded. "Do you remember the story I told you about the woman whose withdrawal I tried to treat, but found murdered, with her pills stolen? And the homeless man who kept saying that he had been trying to hide her from 'THEM'?"

Russel frowned. "You think that the same people who did that are in on this?" He asked.

Dr. Khalan nodded. "A few hours after I left your house that night, when I had just finished running some tests on 2D's pill, some people cornered me in the hospital's parking lot. They demanded that I hand over the pill. I'm not sure how they knew I had it… Maybe one of the technicians who were helping me gave information to the wrong person. Anyway, when I told them that I had deconstructed the pill to run tests, they were about to kidnap me. Fortunately, Donna, Tyler, and Alicia were nearby – they had been hoping to catch me on the way out of work to ask if I could stop by and do something for Devante's cold."

"Dr. Khalan is the best," Dev interrupted with a grin. "She's always been willing to check in when someone who can't afford a cab finds theirself bedridden. And look at me now, good as new!"

"I'm always happy to help," Dr. Khalan replied with a smile. "And it really was fortunate that the three of you were there that night. With Donna and Alicia creating a distraction, Tyler was able to help me slip away and take me here."

Donna smirked. "We pretended to be drunk chicks fighting over a guy. Those poor goons didn't know what hit them when we got into their faces and asked which of us was prettier!"

"I liked the part where you got mad at the one who said I was prettier and punched him in the throat," Added Alicia. The two women exchanged a fist-bump.

"Since then, I've been hiding out here," Dr. Khalan said. "I considered sending someone to your house to make sure you were safe, but I didn't want to lead the bad people to you. Also, I didn't know if 2D would be well enough to travel, given his condition."

2D hadn't said much throughout the conversation. I cast him a curious glance. He was gazing down at his fingers as they drummed on the table. There was a faraway look in his eyes and a slight frown on his face. "Yeah, it probably wouldn't have been a good idea to move me earlier this week," he conceded.

Dr. Khalan nodded. "I asked Alicia, Devante, Donna, and Tyler to keep an eye out in case they saw any of you. And now, here we are."

"Mission successful!" Dev cheered. Alicia rolled her eyes once more, but didn't hold back a smile.

"Alright," Russel said, "so there's a group of people out there who are obsessed with these pills, and will go after anyone who's had contact with them. Is that what they're after? The pills?"

"A good high will sell very well if you know the right people," Donna said. "I've had too many friends caught up in drugs over the years… Well, it wouldn't surprise me if these people are hunting the pills to sell them for big money. Didn't you say they seemed pretty valuable, Doc?"

"Very potent, very addictive. They would sell for a very high price," Doctor Khalan agreed. Then she frowned. "I know we discussed this briefly before when I visited… But could you tell me anything more about how you got those pills? Have you had a chance to speak with the person who supplied them to you?"

I grimaced, thinking of Murdoc in jail. "I'm afraid not. The situation with our supplier is a bit complicated right now."

"Hey, 'D, are you alright?" Russel asked.

I turned to look at the singer. He was still staring down at the table, but his fingers had gone still. His face was oddly pale, a bit sickly even, and he didn't seem to have noticed Russel's attempt to get his attention.

"Yo, 'D? You hear me, man?"

2D started, his eyes flicking up suddenly. "Oh… Um… Yeah, I'm good. Just… Lost in thought…"

The singer looked back down at his fingers. Russel and I shared a concerned glance. I could tell that the table's other occupants were curious, but something in the stiffness of 2D's shoulders told me that he really didn't want to talk right now. "So," I equivocated, "These people we keep running into are most likely in some sort of drug-dealing ring. A very dedicated one, considering they're willing to kill people." I shuddered at the thought of the dead woman Dr. Khalan had described. "Shouldn't we inform the police about this?"

Tyler shook his head. "I've seen the cops try to take down drug rings," he said. "It's easier said than done. You find one dealer, you miss ten."

"Yeah," Alicia agreed. "From what I've seen, this particular group seems very skilled. Their members blend in with a crowd. I tried to track a few suspicious figures while I was out looking for you guys, but they know how to get out of sight. Besides, aside from the night they threatened Dr. Khalan, I haven't been able to catch them doing anything incriminating. We've got no proof, and we've got no way to track them."

"And what we really need to worry about," Dev tossed in, "Is that if we squeal to the police, these people will find us. After all, they found out that Doc had a pill while she was at the hospital; chances are, these goons have eyes and ears everywhere, including in the police force. If the cops know where we are, the goons will too."

I groaned inwardly. _We really are stuck in a big mess, aren't we?_

"Damn," breathed Russel. "Does this mean we gotta go into hiding or something?"

"I would advise it strongly," Doctor Khalan confirmed. "Alicia, Donna, Dev, Tyler, and I have talked about this. You can feel free to stay here until we have a better plan to get these pill thieves off our case –"

"No."

We all turned to look at 2D.

The man flinched, his shoulders curling inward and his eyes low. After a quiet moment, he stammered, "I – I just – I need to get out of here. You guys are great – this place is great – but I've been stuck for so long, I've felt trapped for so long. I – I just need to get out."

I could feel the tension and fear rolling off him in waves. Gently, I placed a hand on his shoulder, rubbing it in small circles to try to soothe his tight muscles. I opened my mouth to speak, but Russel beat me to it.

"'D, man, we all want to help you feel better. Goodness knows you've been through hell… But we also need you to be safe." 2D's shoulders were trembling, his fingers were creeping to dig into his arms. "You know we'd never do anything to hurt you, but the way I see it, lying low here is our best – "

"Actually," I interrupted, "I have to agree with 2D on this one." Russel gawked at me in surprise, and 2D looked up with a hint of hope in his eyes. "I saw 2D try to run today, and I can guarantee that his physical fitness is terrible. If we keep him cooped up in this house, he'll only get worse, and I don't want to have to carry him around anywhere if his legs start to atrophy." 2D blushed slightly, glancing downward with embarrassment. "Besides, mental and emotional trauma are a real threat. With his medication changing, 2D's already going through enough. If he feels trapped, then we need to help him feel free."

Russel looked uncertain. "What about those people out there? 'D's not going to be very healthy if they catch him. For that matter, none of us will be very healthy when we're dead."

"We'll find a way," I said. Turning to the table's other occupants, I added, "Have you guys got any advice?"

The others turned to Dr. Khalan. I silently begged her to side with me – safe or not, I could tell that 2D needed this. "Well," she started, "you'll be safe as long as they don't know where you are, or if you leave whatever area their drug ring has control over. If I were you, I'd get out of town."

I smiled. "That sounds like a fantastic idea."

Russel wasn't convinced. "How will we know when we're out of the drug ring's range?"

"Well," Dr. Khalan said, "It's unlikely that wherever you end up will have as many of those goons as this city does right now – from what I've seen of their numbers, this could very well be their home base. I'd say that as long as you keep your heads low, wherever you are, you'll be safe."

. . .

"Thanks for siding with me, Noodle."

2D and I were sitting on the edge of a bed in a room that our new friends had loaned us for the night. Russel would be joining us when he finished his shower; there simply wasn't enough room in the small apartment for all of us to spread out. He would likely be in the shower for a while. Russel always took longer ones when he needed to de-stress. The lights were turned off. 2D and I were staring at the room's small window, catching whatever gleams of light made it through the drawn blinds (closed for our protection). "No problem, 2D," I responded, playfully bumping my shoulder into his. "To be honest, I didn't like the idea of being trapped here either."

2D smiled, but the expression seemed forced. He glimpsed toward me, his black eyes catching the shining outdoor light for a moment before going dark again. "Noodle, you don't think… Do you think… Russel might be mad at me?"

I met his gaze steadily. "Why would you think that?"

2D's smile faltered. Slowly, he raised his hand from the bedsheet. I watched his pale fingers as they moved closer, floating ghost-like through the air before softly brushing my cheek. I felt my breath catch as his thumb grazed my skin, trailing gently over the sensitive stretch of flesh. My skin tingled wildly in its wake; I was so caught up in the feeling that it took me a moment to realize that his thumb had traced the course of my new knife wound.

"They did this." It wasn't a question.

Hesitantly, I raised my own hand, pressing his warm palm against my cheek and holding it there. "This isn't your fault," I reminded him.

2D gazed at me sadly, his eyes reflecting the sight of my hand on his, before dropping his eyes to his knees. "I'm going to put us all in danger again," He said. "We really ought to stay here. It's safer."

I could feel a slight tremor in his hand. "Do you really think that?"

He sighed. "Noodle, be honest," he asked. "Am I being stupid about this whole thing? Should I just get over myself and stay here where we'll all be safe?"

I smiled softly at him, rubbing the back of his hand. "'D, if there's anything I've learned today, it's that you have pretty good judgement when you're not doped up." He smiled a little at that jibe. "I wasn't kidding earlier when I said that your mental health matters. I hate knowing you feel trapped."

His gaze softened. "Thanks for understanding," he murmured. I felt his hand going slack. I let it lower until it reached my shoulder and wrapped around me. Instinctively, I leaned into his sideways embrace.

I smirked. "By the way, I wasn't kidding about the exercise either. Next time I go to the gym, you're coming with me."

2D laughed. The sound was short-lived, but it seemed to lift some of the darkness from the room. "I can't fight you on that one. I felt pretty guilty with you and Alicia trying to drag me through those alleyways."

"Don't worry, I'll whip you into shape in no time."

We sat there in comfortable silence for a while. I watched 2D's face, striped with the light seeping out of the closed blinds, and couldn't help flashing back to the nervous, sick look he bore when we were talking about the pill thieves. "You know you can tell me anything 2D, right? Even if you're just stressed and you need to vent. I'm here to listen."

2D bit his lip. "Yeah…" His hand tightened momentarily on my shoulder and I leaned further into him, wrapping my own arm around his waist. "It's just – it's hard to hear about all this stuff, especially… especially the p-pills. I – I can still feel cravings… I think about them, off and on – like – I felt pretty good this morning, being at the parade, being with you, having fun, but when Alicia brought me here, and I was just sitting, and waiting… They were all very kind, they were talking to me and trying to distract me, but I was so stressed, and I couldn't stop thinking about them… I was craving them _so badly_ …"

2D shuddered, his whole body shaking as if filled with chills. I massaged his back in a way that I hoped he would find comforting. "I'm scared, that if I stay here, I'll keep feeling like that, more and more…" There was a slight sob in his voice. "I'm scared it'll drive me crazy. That's why I feel like I need to get out of here, even if it's dangerous. I can't keep feeling like this. I just… I can't. I won't."

"That's fine," I whispered. "We'll get you out of here. I'll be with you every step of the way."

He tried to smile only for his face to fall once more. "And another thing… You know my head's been different today. It's… It's clearer, clearer than it's been in a long time, but it's confusing, because there's so much that I can't remember, this whole, huge chunk of my life… And there are parts that I can remember, little parts scattered between these long stretches of not knowing, and it freaks me out. Everything I can remember since… Since the pills started… There's so much confusion, and pain, and there are a few good parts, but most of it is strange and hard to understand."

There were tear trails on his face. I felt moisture pricking at the corners of my own eyes. I pressed my face into his shoulder. "If you ever want to talk through those memories, I'm here. I'll try to help you make sense of the parts you don't understand, and I'll listen to the parts that you just want to talk about."

2D sniffed. "I'd like that," he said. "But first, can we talk about tomorrow? There's something I've been thinking about, with… with where we're going next."

I was curious. "Is there someplace specific you wanted to go?"

He nodded, then laid his head gently on top of mine, his warm cheek pressed into my hair. "One of the things I keep thinking about, that's sort of nice to think about, is the way things were before – well – before _everything,_ all of this, the pills, the band…" He breathed deeply. "I… I haven't seen my parents in a long time. Or my hometown, or my friends. I keep remembering more and more… I had so many friends, and I haven't spared a single thought for any of them in years."

I smiled. "I guess we'll have to fix that."

His fingers twitched. "But… do you think it's safe? We need to go somewhere the pill thieves won't suspect. Wouldn't my parents' house be a bit – eh – obvious?"

I shrugged as much as I could with my head tucked into 2D's shoulder. "You haven't seen them in years; I doubt anyone even knows who your parents are. It doesn't seem likely to cause trouble to me."

Admittedly, it was slightly risky, but there was something in his voice when he talked about going to his parents' that felt bright and hopeful. I thought back to the night, days before, when 2D had told me about the pain of not being able to remember his past… Reuniting him with that lost part of his life would be well worth the risk.

"Are you sure, Noodle?"

"I'm positive. First thing tomorrow morning, we'll take the car and drive straight up to…"

"Crawley."

I smiled. "Crawley it is."

I could feel his face moving against my hair – smiling, I hope.

"Do you still want to tell me about those memories you were having trouble with?" I asked.

"Yeah," he replied. "It's a bit confusing… I think they're mostly memories from the time I stopped taking pills after the band formed."

I nodded slightly. "Russel told me about what happened after Demon Days."

"Yeah, I've got a couple memories popping up from that time. But the weirdest memories are from right before I started taking pills again… they… they're more confusing, and… harder to think about. They're hard for me to describe. But… I'll try. Um… This might sound a little incoherent; the memories aren't very clear…"

"That's okay. Take your time."

. . .

 _Safety. A safe place. No pills. Lots of distractions. Lots of headaches too…_

 _Don't think about headaches – today is a good day._

 _And now it's a bad day._

 _In my room, head pain, looking out through the window._

 _Something smells funny…_

 _TRAPPED._

 _Confusion. Darkness. Bad smell._

 _I'm in… A box? A suitcase?_

 _For days…_

 _My head hurts._

 _SUNLIGHT._

 _The sky is blue, the ground is blue._

 _The ground is pink._

 _The sky is green._

" _FACEACHE."_

 _He's here, they're not._

 _Still no pills, but TRAPPED._

 _They're not here._

" _2D!"_

 _They're here._

 _Airplanes._

 _The Pills._

. . .

 **Coming Up Next: 2D is going home… for better or for worse?**

 **Much thanks to all the reviewers who've been supportive while life's kept me too busy to add chapters!**

 **How do you guys feel about this new Gorillaz stuff coming out? I loved désolé! It makes me wish I knew more languages. According to Google Translate, "désolé" can mean "sorry," "desolate," or "afraid," all of which feel like they could fit the tone of the song. I know he's only a fictional character, but after watching that music video, I can't help wondering if Murdoc is okay…**

 **No promises, but I'm going to try to write another chapter before spring break ends! Keep an eye out for it!**

 **Peace!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11: Coming in Katsu**

 **Disclaimer: See chapter 1**

Years ago, when Gorillaz was a new band working on our first album, I didn't know much about myself. I could remember waking up to darkness of The Crate, reaching out to feel its rough, splintery walls and hearing the cacophony of the world outside, of oceans and engines and tires on roads. I could remember the day that darkness was broken by a shaft of light, the day I leaped out of The Crate and was introduced to a world full of colors, full of light, full of three confused men who spoke to me in a language I understood but couldn't speak. I remembered every day after The Crate, remembered the men and their habits and the music they gave me to memorize as well as the colors of the sky and the sounds of birdsong, zombies, and guitars. But try as I might, I could never remember anything before The Crate. So, I left.

I arrived in Japan. I found my hometown. And I remembered everything, all at once.

Training, violence, friends, soldiers…

Who was I?

A guitarist in a band?

A child soldier?

Both? Neither?

 _Who was I?_

Sometimes it felt like it would be easier to block out one life or the other rather than give both the leisure to crowd my mind, influence my thoughts, and force me to change. But even if there was some way to reverse the process I had begun when I set foot in Japan, I wouldn't have. I needed both halves to be whole. I needed to accept my full self to move forward.

Who was I? I was the product of multiple environments, an individual capable of change and full of endurance. I was different than people remembered me, but also the same, someone to be recognized but not immediately known.

I had an odd dream that night after 2D and I reunited at Dr. Khalan's hideout. I think it took place yesterday, at the parade, except this time 2D wasn't there. Or maybe he was there. There was someone who looked like him. But I remember a sense of feeling alone. Confused. The look-alike's eyes must have met mine at some point because the clearest thing I can remember is the way their face stayed completely blank, unrecognizing, as they looked away. I thought I recognized them, but couldn't quite be sure if I knew them.

. . .

I slowly became aware of a gentle hand on my shoulder, shaking me softly. For a moment I was lost in the shadow of my dream, still wondering if I recognized that face stationed just feet away from mine.

Then 2D grinned, and the dream faded away.

"Hey, Noodle. Dev made us breakfast."

I gazed up at him, the cool, blueish light of dawn washing over his face and illuminating his gap-toothed grin. This was 2D, the singer and close friend I'd known for years.

And yet, I had to admit that there was something unfamiliar about him this morning. Something in the ways his eyes focused, the way he stood without swaying, the sureness and balance in his posture.

Nowhere in my memory could I remember him looking so steady and alert, nowhere could I remember his eyes looking so intelligent and sure instead of glazed and listless, nowhere except for a scene which my brain told me was a memory of yesterday but my sense told me had to be a part of my dream…

But as I raised a hand to brush the hair from my eyes, I felt a strange prickle on my cheek.

 _The knife wound…_

 _All of that really happened._

When my fingers lingered on the wound, 2D frowned. "Noods?" he murmured. "Does that hurt?"

I pulled my hand away from my face and smiled up at him. "No, I'd just forgotten it was there."

I sat up in my burrow of blankets on the floor, stretching my arms high above my head as my spine straightened. Russel and I had decided the night before that 2D ought to take the room's only bed to help with his continuing recovery. Fortunately, Dr. Khalan and her friends had plenty of blankets to make us comfortable.

I looked up at 2D, who was crouched at the edge of my makeshift nest. "You're up early today," I noticed.

2D flashed a bright smile. "Yeah, I woke up with a lot of energy! I'm really excited about today. A bit nervous too, but mostly excited!"

 _So, he remembers._

I had wondered whether 2D would remember his plans from the day before. Apparently, the increased memory we noted yesterday wasn't just a fluke, and I couldn't help feeling a bit startled by it all. How was the guy who forgot his own birthday for twenty years in a row suddenly so _aware?_

Just how much had my friend changed?

As confused and curious as I was, I knew it was important not to make a big deal out of the change. After all, I had gone through a mental transformation of my own many years ago, when I had visited Japan as a child and regained memories of my past. I knew that any concern I felt for 2D was a mere shadow compared to the hideous amount of worry and stress he must be feeling himself. He has a lot of self-discovery to do, and I was determined to be a constant source of calm and support as we moved forward.

"I'm glad you're excited," I said earnestly, returning his smile. "I bet lots of people from your hometown will be excited to see you."

"If they recognize me!" 2D chuckled, a nervous lilt in his voice. "I hope they'll be happy to see me. I'd really like to catch up on everything I've missed…" 2D seemed to go still for a moment, his eyes drifting across the room in an absent manner before he shook himself and resumed his cheerful grin. "Anyway, we'd better head downstairs while breakfast is fresh!"

He held out a hand. I let him pull me to my feet, gauging his strength as he did so. _Below average, but understandable for a man who spent a week in bed._ Glancing towards the corner of the room, I noted that Russel was still fast asleep. "Need some help waking up Russ?" I asked.

"Yeah," 2D admitted. "He's a much heavier sleeper than you are."

. . .

Dev had indeed made us breakfast. We shared a meal of toast and eggs while Dr. Khalan listed tips to help us monitor 2D's continuing recovery.

"Make sure you eat well," Dr Khalan urged 2D. "You've got a lot of muscle mass to rebuild. And stay active!"

"Sure thing, Doc," 2D replied obediently, tossing me a grin. "I'm sure Noodle will make sure I get to a gym every now and then!"

"You better believe it," I shot back at him, taking another bite out of my toast.

"And you better believe some seriously good meals are comin' your way!" Russel added. "We'll get your strength up in no time."

2D beamed at us.

"You're lucky to have such supportive friends, 2D," Dr. Khalan said. "Change is always easier to handle when you're surrounded by people you trust."

"Yeah," 2D agreed softly. "I couldn't have asked for better friends." His gaze swept over Russel and I, and I felt a warmth stir in my chest when his shining black eyes met mine. With everything that had happened lately, it felt good to see such a genuine smile on his face.

"So," said Dev, approaching the table with a fresh dish of eggs and plopping down with us, "what's your game plan for today? Still hell-bent on leaving town?"

2D and I shared another glance. "Yeah," I said. "I think it will be good for us to go someplace with less heat from the Pill Thieves." For lack of an official name, we had taken to referring to our malevolent stalkers as the Pill Thieves. It seemed fitting, considering that all we knew about them was that they mercilessly targeted people who had access to 2D's former pill.

Russel shivered. "As much as I worry about us leaving, I know I won't feel comfortable until we've put some distance between us and those stalkers." He cast a broad grin towards 2D. "And I agree with what 'D said yesterday. It's about time he had the chance to get out and have some freedom."

2D's returning smile was radiant. I recalled how worried he had been the night before when Russel had seemed reluctant to leave, and I knew that a great weight had just been lifted from the skinny man's shoulders.

Still smiling, 2D turned to face Dev and Dr. Khalan. "We were thinking of going to Crawley today. It's where I grew up. I'm hoping I'll have the chance to see my parents… It's been a long time though." His smile faltered, but he played it off with a sad chuckle. "I've changed a lot. Maybe they won't even recognize me."

Russel laid a large hand on his shoulder. "'D, man, they're your parents. Of course they'll recognize you." The drummer smirked. "Besides, there aren't that many people in the world with blue hair. If nothing else, they'll remember you by that."

2D nodded, looking reassured but still a bit uneasy. "I don't think they've seen me since my eyes… well…" He gestured to his face, fingers circling dark corneas. "You know. They might not… I don't know how they'll take it."

I tilted my head curiously. "2D, don't you think your parents have seen any pictures of you online, or watched any of our music videos? I can't imagine they wouldn't want to keep up with their son."

2D shrugged, turning his head aside and staring at the table. "I don't know. I haven't had any contact with them, not even the last time I was off my pills. At least, I don't think I have… I can't remember that time very well. For all I know, they might not know I'm in a band. They might not know that I'm the singer for Gorillaz, or that I go by 2D nowadays. Maybe, one day, their son just disappeared, along with the man who was supposed to be taking care of him." One of his hands twitched on the tabletop, curling into a tight fist. "I don't know if Murdoc said anything to them before he took me away to Kong. Knowing him… I wouldn't count on it."

The room seemed to get a little colder when 2D finished. I watched him in silence, watching the ways his eyes went still and the shadows beneath them seemed to deepen. He bit his lip, and his face twitched, briefly revealing a pained look before it disappeared back into a mask of stillness. He shook his head slightly, his hair flying out in erratic spikes before offering a nervous chuckle and a small grin. "Well, I guess I'll find out today, won't I?"

Russel's hand tightened around 2D's shoulder, a silent sign of comfort. I playfully bumped my own shoulder into the lanky man's side. "We'll be with you every step of the way."

The kitchen door creaked. We all turned our heads.

"Oh, did I ruin a moment?" Donna said, strolling into the kitchen with Alicia and Tyler on her heels. "Darn. Well… Breakfast smells great, Dev!"

"It's made with love!" The man crooned, blowing a kiss towards Alicia. Alicia rolled her eyes, but I didn't miss the blush that tinted her cheeks.

"Hey, got any love for me, Dev?" Tyler cooed, puckering his lips. His friends laughed.

They joined us at the table. It was crowded; we were all pressed shoulder-to-shoulder and Dev and Alicia were sharing a chair, but it was a positive crowd and the room seemed to become warmer and brighter because of it. Dr. Khalan and her friends began discussing their plans for the day. I learned that the doctor's friends were all people with low-wage jobs that they struggled to keep. Donna explained to us that they each had troubled pasts which left them with "slightly stained records… You know, petty theft, a wee bit of vandalism, maybe a smidgeon of public altercations…," but had banded together with the goal of pooling their meager financial resources and, little by little, building better lives for themselves.

"It's much easier to move up when you have people to rely on," Alicia mused. "I'd always considered myself a loner, the sort of person who could stand up for herself and didn't need anyone's help. I never realized how much good a bit of security and companionship could do until I met these guys."

"Awww!" Dev simpered, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. "She loooves us!"

Donna and Tyler giggled. I wondered how many times Alicia rolled her eyes on an average day.

"So," Tyler injected as he turned to us, "are you lot planning on heading straight for Crawley this morning, or have you got to sneak back to your house to pick up your belongings?"

"I brought all of our important stuff yesterday," Russel replied. "Phones, pills, a couple changes of clothes for each of us, all in some bags in the back of the car. I think we're best off avoiding the house entirely at this point, since we've got no way of knowing if the Pill Thieves have found our address yet."

Something tickled the back of my mind… I couldn't help the feeling we'd forgotten something important.

"Yeah," 2D agreed with Russel. "The essentials will be enough. I honestly wouldn't mind if I never had to go back to that place again –"

A realization hit me like ice water.

"– what do you think, Noo-"

"KATSU!"

The table jumped at my shout, but I hardly cared. _Oh my gosh. We don't have Katsu. I almost FORGOT Katsu! I'm a terrible pet owner!_ "We need to go back; I need to get Katsu! He's still at the house! Or he might not be at the house! We have a cat flap, he could be out, he could be anywhere!"

Russel swore. "Noodle, I'm so sorry! I was so busy thinking about the essentials, I forgot to grab Katsu!"

I clawed a hand through my hair. _What if the Pill Thieves are already at the house? How am I going to get Katsu?"_

"Hey."

I felt a light touch on my shoulder.

2D had moved. He was now standing behind Russel and me, pale fingers resting on either of our shoulders and an uncommonly mature expression on his face. "It's nobody's fault, okay? We're going to get Katsu. Everything's going to be fine."

Russel heaved a deep breath and nodded, his eyebrows bent with worry. I hissed out a breath through my teeth.

 _No one was home to feed him this morning._

 _He could be out hunting… He could be anywhere!_

 _How are we going to find him?_

"Noodle?"

 _What if we don't find him?_

 _What if we never find him?_

 _What if the Pill Thieves find us first?_

"Noodle," 2D murmured softly. "Look at me."

His hand on my shoulder was firmer, more insistent. I cracked open my eyes, turning to blearily meet his gaze…

His eyes paralyzed me.

I hadn't realized my mind was spinning until it jarred to a halt. I was barely aware of my previous train of thought as I was caught in the grasp of that dark gaze. I didn't stop to wonder why my lungs weren't working, why my thoughts weren't forming, why even my pulse seemed to pause to listen –

"It's going to be okay, Noodle."

Was that even 2D speaking? Wasn't his voice supposed to stutter and waver? Why was it so calm, and sure, and soothing…

"We're going to find Katsu. I promise."

He blinked.

Like a spell breaking, I breathed. His eyes were still unnaturally focused and deep, but now I was also aware of the soft smile he wore, the hands grasping both of my other shoulders, the tension leaving my body slowly. Vaguely, I was aware of the table's other occupants looking on with concern and sympathy, but with a sort of ethereal lightheadedness I kept my eyes trained on 2D's sedate gaze, letting it calm me as my breathing leveled to match his.

 _It's going to be okay._

I sighed. "Sorry. I… got a little carried away." I breathed. "I don't like to think of Katsu being left behind."

2D squeezed my shoulders. "It's okay. We know how much you love Katsu; he's your companion. We care about him too."

"Dev and I have the day off," Alicia murmured. "We'd be happy to check back at the house with you guys to help you find your cat. It is a cat, right?"

"Yeah," I said, reluctantly pulling my gaze away from 2D, feeling one of his hands slip off my shoulder as I acknowledged Alicia. "He's a cat. And I'd appreciate any help I can get… Hopefully, he's just at the house, but he could be out hunting in the neighborhood, especially since no one was around to feed him this morning."

"We're happy to help!" Dev announced.

I smiled. This week had been rough, but meeting Dr. Khalan's friends had been a stroke of fortune.

"You know," said Dr. Khalan, "it might be best if 2D and Russel stay here while Noodle, Alicia and Dev go looking for Katsu." Both Russel and 2D looked unsettled with this announcement. Russel opened his mouth to protest when Khalan continued, "Now, I know you three like to stick together, especially at times like this, but you are the ones being pursued by the Pill Thieves. Dev and Alicia are much safer out there than you are."

"What about Noodle?" Russel objected.

"I recall that cat sticking close to Noodle when I visited your home," Dr. Khalan said. "Katsu probably won't trust Alicia or Dev unless Noodle is with them. As for her safety, she should be fine as long as she disguises herself. With her height and build, she stands out much less in a crowd than either of you two."

I nodded at Dr. Khalan. Katsu didn't care much for strangers, least of all strangers who were trying to capture him.

Fingers tightened on my shoulder. I turned to tell 2D that I would be alright, but I wasn't prepared for the look of undivided intensity he had trained onto Dev and Alicia. When he spoke, his voice was low in a way that made the air seem to shiver. "You'll stick together, won't you? Protect each other from the Pill Thieves?"

The two were still for a moment, possibly startled by the man's sudden gravity. Eventually, Alicia replied, "of course. We won't let our guard down. We'll protect your family, just as we protect our own." She nodded towards me to emphasize her last statement.

2D held their gaze, sizing them up until his face broke into a small grin. "Alright. I trust you." His eyes shifted, meeting mine.

"Stay safe, Noodle."

I met his eyes and nodded, perturbed by how that cockney voice I had always thought was silly had become deadly serious.

 _When did 2D get so intense?_

. . .

The crowds had thinned since the day before, but plenty of people still breezed in and out of pubs, gazed into shop windows, and ambled through the walkways of Manchester with bulky shopping bags tucked beneath their arms. The nylon strands of a wig tickled my neck. A thick mask of concealer and a pair of amber-tinted sunglasses completed the disguise Donna had prepared for me earlier that morning, gifted with the warning that "This look _may_ be associated with some robberies from a few years back, but the cops have probably forgotten about it by now." The straps of a drooping backpack wound around my shoulders. I hoped that the backpack would pass as a makeshift carrier once we found Katsu. Walking down the street with an actual cat carrier in my arms would attract too much attention.

I searched our surroundings, wary of bystanders who looked our way. No gazes had paused to linger on my disguise yet, but I had noticed at least three sketchy figures lurking ominously in the streets, one of whom had been shooting glances at a teenager with a blue dye-job. The Pill Thieves were definitely still in town.

Dev and Alicia walked alongside me, conversing lightheartedly. We had agreed that chatting about meaningless things would help us blend in amongst the numerous people talking about clothes, dinner plans, and various other topics. My companions were also probably trying to take my mind off my worries for Katsu while we made our trip.

"The weather's a bit warmer today," Alicia commented. "I hope it keeps warming up. I can't stand long winters."

Dev chuckled. "Yeah, and if it doesn't warm up soon, I might go crazy from Donna badgering us to turn up the thermostat. If she had it her way, we'd be living in a sauna!"

"And if you had it your way, we'd have moved to the arctic," Alicia quipped back.

"I prefer it a bit warmer myself," I chipped in. "Usually my friends are pretty good at compromising on the thermostat, but _one_ of them," I thought back to Murdoc's historically selfish behaviors, "has raised the temperature by twenty degrees at least three times without telling anyone."

Dev laughed. Alicia looked at me sideways. "I don't suppose you're referring to the member of your group we haven't met yet?" She asked, glancing around the street to make sure no strangers were listening in. "The one in prison?"

I nodded. "He can be difficult to deal with," I admitted. "Sometimes I wonder why we put up with him. We'd probably be less stressed without him." And yet, I couldn't help feeling a bit guilty about not helping him out when the police showed up last week.

"Families can be difficult," Dev said with a soft smile, glancing at Alicia. "Remember when Donna first joined up with us and Tyler? We all thought she just wanted to loaf off our salaries and have a place to lie low until she started stealing again. Then she went and got that job at the old beauty salon, and I think she brings in the most cash out of any of us right now!"

Alicia frowned. "Being a slacker and a petty thief is one thing, but I get the sense that this friend of yours," she nodded to me, "is in something _deep_. Isn't he tied into this situation you guys are stuck with?"

Listening to them talk was like listening to two sides of my own mind: the side that wanted to trust Murdoc versus the side that looked at the pills, his prickly behavior, and incidents like Plastic Beach and felt that trust would cause more harm than good. "It's a complicated situation," I confessed, glancing between Alicia and Dev. "I think the outcome of this is going to test my trust in him. At least with him being in prison, we get some time apart to think about things."

Alicia nodded. "In the meantime, maybe you should talk your tall friend into seeing a therapist. He seems a bit on edge, and his mood was shifting like crazy this morning."

I thought back to 2D's smiles, jitters, and seriousness through the course of breakfast. I guess I wasn't the only one who found his behavior odd.

Our conversation gradually shifted to lighter topics as we escaped the busy confines of the town center and meandered into a residential street full of familiar dingy townhouses. I scanned the road carefully and was pleased to find it deserted aside from two children playing with a basketball and a greyhound trotting alongside an unsuspicious jogger. I didn't get the sense that we were being watched, but I continued to glance nervously at the windows of the homes lining the street. We couldn't be too careful.

Finally, we arrived at the neglected lawn of Gorillaz's temporary home. We strolled up the crumbling concrete walkway and, pulling a key out of my pocket, I unlocked the door before pushing it gently open.

I pulled of my sunglasses and peered inside. Pallid light streamed through dirty windows, providing scant illumination for the room. I tried to make out any sign that someone had entered the house since Russel left yesterday, but considering how messy our home usually was, identifying misplaced objects was a challenge. Tentatively, I stepped inside, Dev and Alicia on my tail. I felt a sense of foreboding as Alicia closed the door behind us.

Dev surveyed the foyer. "Do you think anyone else might be in here?"

Alicia frowned. "If they are, the sound of the door opening was probably enough to give us away. They'll know we're here."

"We'll know soon enough if anyone else is in," I said, looking down at the worn wooden floors. "Every floorboard in this house creaks. We'll hear them as soon as they step out of hiding."

Dev smiled nervously. "I'm just going to keep hoping no one else is here. On the bright side, the creaky floors might help us find your cat!"

I hoped Dev was right. "We should stay close," I advised. "That way, we can watch each other's backs."

I led the way into the kitchen. There was no sign of Katsu next to his empty food bowl, nor near the cabinet where his food was stored. Figuring that it was no use trying to pass through the house silently, I called, "Katsu? Are you in here?" There was no response.

Next stop was the living room. After calling once more for Katsu and hearing nothing, I turned to Dev and Alicia. "Could you guys check under the blankets on the couch? I'm going to look under the TV stand."

I could hear them shuffling through fabric while I crouched low, placed my palms on the floor and dropping to peer below the wooden stand. I could remember countless times Katsu had hid under here. He appreciated the privacy of the dark nook and liked the way the old DVD player heated up when it ran; it was one of his favorite places to take a nap aside from my own bed. Unfortunately, the only signs of Katsu I could find today were a couple old hairballs and a red stuffed mouse.

I reached for the mouse and tucked it into my pocket.

As I stood back up, I felt a tight, clenching sensation in my chest. It hit me again that Katsu might not even be in the house. What was I supposed to do if he wasn't here? If I had to stay in this house, who would find me first: Katsu or the Pill Thieves?

That is, if the Pill Thieves haven't already found me. If they weren't already here.

Wait…

What if they already came here, and found Katsu?

What if they did something to Katsu?

"There's nothing in these blankets," Alicia called. "Did you find anything over there?"

I sighed, trying to breathe away the tightness in my chest. "No, he's not in this room. If he hasn't heard me calling, he's probably not on this floor."

"Where to next?" Dev inquired, tilting his head.

"We should try upstairs," I replied. "Katsu hangs out in my room sometimes. I think that's the most likely place we'll find him."

We moved towards the staircase. I counted my breaths, trying to calm the pangs of worry I felt at Katsu's absence. I needed to keep a level head. Being distracted wouldn't help me if the Pill Thieves made an appearance. As much as I was glad my friends were safe, I wished that 2D and Russel were here. Without them, this house had none of the warmth of home.

The stairs creaked beneath our shoes, protesting our weight as we advanced towards the upper floor. As soon as I stepped into the top hallway, I felt a chill. My spine tingled. I instinctively jerked my head, my eyes darting from left to right in a fervid attempt to find the source of my swiftly rising anxiety.

I was almost certain that someone else was up here.

"What's going on?" Dev asked, having noticed my quick head movement.

"I get the feeling we're not alone," I said.

"Did you hear something?" Alicia asked.

"No, it's just a feeling… But my feelings are usually on the mark." I hesitated, waiting for some sound or sight to confirm my feeling, before stepping cautiously towards my room. "Follow me in here. Dev, could you stand near the door and keep an eye on the hallway?"

"Sure thing," Dev said, mustering a brave face.

I surveyed my room, my eyes roving over the travel posters on the wall, the memorabilia lining my shelf, and the small collection of guitars stacked in one corner. Beneath the adrenaline and worry of my hunt for Katsu, I could feel my heart aching for all the possessions I, and the rest of my bandmates, would be leaving behind. Maybe we could call a company to pick up some of our stuff later… But now wasn't the time to think about that. "Katsu?" I called softly, running a hand over my bedcovers to check for and lumps which would suggest a cat underneath. "Are you here?" Frustration rose within me as he failed to make an appearance. "I need you to come out. I need you to show me where you are."

"I don't think he's in here," Alicia stated, her voice gentle. "If he hasn't heard you by now, I doubt he's in the house. We could check your backyard –"

"Wait!" Dev said. "I think I heard something!"

Alicia and I turned to face Dev. He stood by the doorway, poking his hear out with a thoughtful expression. "It was a really light sound, so it could have been your cat." He took a tentative step into the hallway. "I think it was coming from –" His eyes went wide. "GUYS! SOMEBODY'S –"

 _SLAM!_

Dev hit the ground with a man clothed in black on top of him.

"DEV!" Alicia screamed.

We rushed towards the doorway to help Dev – until a woman in black garb stepped in our way. Her handgun was held level with our heads.

"You move, you're dead," the woman growled.

We stopped in our tracks. I could feel my pulse bolting as Dev's attacker stood and joined the woman just inside the doorway. I could see the lower half of Dev's body sprawled on the floor outside the door. He didn't move.

"I think this chick's one of them," the woman said to the man. She gestured at me with her gun. Her face was cold. "You. Take the wig off."

The dim light gleamed off the steel surface of her gun. I flicked my gaze from the weapon to the woman's humorless eyes. Slowly, I raised my arms and pulled the nylon covering from my head.

The man held up his phone and looked at me as if comparing my face to a photograph. "Yeah, there's a lot of makeup, but that's definitely her," he said, smirking. "So, you're Noodle from Gorillaz. Sorry we couldn't have met on better terms. I'm not here for an autograph."

I steeled my face. "What do you want?"

"We're interested in your blue-haired friend," he said casually. "How's 2D been doing lately? We hear he's off his pills."

"What do you want with 2D?" I replied, not bothering to answer the man's question.

The man frowned, seeming to have some flowery quip on the tip of his tongue before the woman cut in. "This is what's going to happen. We're going to wait in this room until more of my team arrive. If anyone moves, I'll shoot them. Then, we'll all get into cars, and you'll show us the way to your band's new hideout."

I clenched my hands into fists. There was no way we were leading these people back to the hideout. I flicked my gaze to the side, trying to catch Alicia's eye. She didn't notice, her gaze locked on Dev's unmoving foot. Her hands were shaking.

I groaned inwardly. This looked bad. Trying to escape while that woman pointed a gun at my head was a bad move. Waiting for more of these thugs to arrive was also a bad move. Once we got into those cars with them, we would be well trapped… We needed to get out of this situation as soon as possible. But how? And how much time did we have? There were two of them, one armed with a gun. Dev was incapacitated and Alicia might be in shock. If we're going to escape, I'm going to have to take out both of our captors. A good first step would be to get that woman's gun out of my face.

Maybe a simple ruse would work?

I looked over the woman's shoulder as if interested at something behind her. Then, I jerked my eyes back to her face, as if trying not to give something away. The woman's eyes narrowed. _Come on, look away…_

"Keep an eye out behind me," The woman said.

"Sure," said the man.

 _Damn._

Maybe if I glanced over her shoulder enough times, I could convince her that her partner was missing something…

"Hey!" The man hissed. "I think there's someone downstairs! I heard movement!"

Huh. Or maybe a convenient distraction would pop up out of nowhere.

The woman gritted her teeth. "Then take your gun out of its holster and point it at the next person who comes up the stairs!"

The man reached behind his back. His hand reappeared with a loaded gun, which he pointed at the stairway with straight, tense arms.

Great. Now _both_ of my enemies are armed.

Suddenly, the man's rigid posture relaxed. "Oh, it's just a cat." He grimaced. "Ew, and I think it's got a dead rat in its mouth."

Katsu!

"Shoot it," The woman said.

NO!

The man frowned. "Hey, just cause you're a dog person doesn't mean I have to shoot every cat that –"

"MRRRAOWWWRR!"

"AHHH!"

Katsu had leaped at the man's face. In a moment of shock, he dropped his gun.

The woman looked back at her partner.

I lunged forward.

My hands grasped hers, forcing her gun's muzzle toward the ceiling. She tightened both hands around her weapon, trying to wrestle back control, which left her stomach open when I drove my knee into her gut. Gasping, she fell to the floor, both hands still secured around her gun. Determined not to let go either, I fell with her.

Somewhere else in the room, I could hear Alicia screaming something about Dev while she joined Katsu's assault on the man. I kept my eyes trained on the woman as we fell sideways. Gunshots sounded. My hands vibrated with the woman's as we both clutched the hot gunmetal, and I thought I could hear glass shattering. We writhed on the floor. She wrapped both legs above my hips, blocking my knees from hitting her stomach again. Kicking my legs against the floor, I pushed forward and rolled the woman onto her back. Gravity aided me in pinning her hands, and the gun, over her head.

She growled. The heat of one of her legs disappeared from my waist moments before a hard knee rammed into my side. I gritted my teeth against the pain, knowing that I couldn't block her blows as long as I used my hands to pin hers.

Again, her knee struck out at the same spot on my side. And again. And again. I choked back a reaction as waves of brutal pain burst from the point of impact. This wasn't working; I needed to change tactics before she broke a rib. I withdrew one hand from the gun, shifting so that the full weight of my body would assist my other hand holding the weapon down. I slammed my free hand onto the woman's throat.

She choked, her eyes flying wide in surprise. I pressed down mercilessly, heat and fear and anger coursing through my blood as I willed the woman to pass out.

She let go of the gun.

Before I could secure my grip on the weapon, her hands and legs were beneath me, pushing up and throwing me across the room. I crashed into my stockpile of guitars, my injured side bearing the brunt of the impact.

Pain shot through my ribs. For a moment, I saw stars. My heartbeat pounded in my ears when I noticed through the pained haze that the woman, recovering quickly, was reaching for the gun again, her fingers already brushing the trigger.

I felt the smooth neck of a guitar against my fingers.

The woman had the gun in her hand, raised her murderous gaze towards me, turned the barrel in my direction –

With a cry, I swung the guitar into the air, channeling all the muscles in my body towards bringing the hard, plastic body down quick and hard against the woman's skull.

 _CRACK!_

The woman's hand went slack.

She slumped to the floor and didn't move.

Wheezing, I dropped the splintered neck of guitar and brought a hand to my side. I gasped as the light brush of my own fingertips caused fire to flare beneath my skin. Forcing thoughts of agony to the back of my mind, I cast my sight towards Alicia and Katsu's fight. The man was on the ground, his face bleeding as Katsu's claws scored him over and over. Alicia sat on his legs, red-faced and swearing while she pummeled his stomach. They had things under control at the moment.

There was no telling how much time we had before our opponents' backup arrived. I pulled my phone out of my pocket, quickly typing a message to a groupchat I shared with Russel and 2D. _'Pill Thieves here. Bring the car ASAP, meet us behind backyard.'_

"Alicia," I rasped, looking back at the enraged woman and her target. "You beat him… Come on, we need to get out of here."

Panting, Alicia paused her assault. Katsu leaped away from the man's face with a hiss. When Alicia removed herself from the man's legs, he curled into a ball, whimpering as he covered his bleeding face.

Katsu ran up to me, a purr in his throat. I ran a hand over his soft head. "Great timing, buddy," I murmured, "although, it would have been great if you'd just met us at the front door." I pulled the backpack off my shoulders, unzipping it to show Katsu the soft blanket within. "I know it's no luxury cat carrier, but I need you to hop in here for now." Remembering the red mouse in my pocket, I pulled out the toy and dropped it into the bag. With a reluctant glare, Katsu stepped gingerly in. I zipped it over him, leaving it slightly open so that he could breathe, before carefully arranging the bag back over my shoulders. I could feel Katsu squirming within as he tried to find a comfortable position.

I looked back towards Alicia. She had left the cowering man and was now visible just outside the doorway, at Dev's side. I rose to my feet, grunting with a fresh wave of pain, and limped towards them. "How's Dev?" I asked.

Alicia sighed. "Still breathing. I think he got knocked out when that bastard tackled him against the wall. There's a bruise right here." She pointed to Dev's temple. "I think he'll be fine once we get back and Dr. Khalan has the chance to look him over."

I glanced toward my shattered bedroom window, the victim of the woman's stray bullets. "I don't know how much time we have before more Pill Thieves show up. There's an alley just over the backyard fence where we can hide; I've already told my friends to meet us there with the car."

Alicia nodded. Just as we had done the day before with 2D, we each wrapped an arm under one of Dev's shoulders and lifted him up. As I straightened my spine, a fresh streak of pain struck my ribcage and I gasped.

Alicia glanced toward me. "You okay?"

"That woman fought well," I grunted, gritting my teeth against the ache. "I'd rather not meet any more of those people soon. Let's go."

. . .

As we staggered across the back lawn, I could hear tires squeal at the front of the house – probably the Pill Thieves' backup arriving. Reaching the high wooden fence, we thrusted Dev over the top. "Sorry, Dev," Alicia murmured as he rolled limply out of our sight and fell into the bushes beyond with a _crunch_. Alicia reached up to grab the top of the fence. "Boost me up, I'll pull you over."

Unfortunately, being 'pulled over' was an extremely painful experience for my battered ribcage. I tried to land on my feet, but the moment my heels hit the ground shock radiated through my chest and my ribcage flared with pain. I could hear Katsu's upset yowl as I staggered forward, dropping to the ground and curling onto my better side. Distantly, I could hear Alicia's hum of concern and feel her fingers at the hem of my shirt. She cursed under her breath. " _Yikes,_ that's a big bruise…"

A door squealed.

I held my breath as wood creaked, then grass rustled on the other side of the fence. There were people in the backyard. They said nothing as they moved, the sound of shoes brushing grass and small twigs snapping grew louder…

" _Hey!"_ I heard a stage whisper sound across the lawn, coming from the back entrance. "Something went down upstairs. Get over here!" The footsteps pounded, receding in volume before disappearing with the _squeak_ of a closing door.

I could hear Alicia's relieved exhale as clearly as I could feel my own. I sat up slightly, somewhat recovered from the strain of crossing the fence but still grimacing with discomfort.

The noon sun simmered on a patch of cracked asphalt extending towards either end of the shaded alleyway. It was hemmed on both sides by derelict wooden fences, sparse bushes with scratchy leaves, sickly weeds, and trees strangled by vines. I hoped that Russel and 2D would show up before the Pill Thieves decided to search back here.

" _Aughhh…_ Ow, my head…"

"Dev!" Alicia whispered excitedly. "How are you feeling?"

Eyes still closed, the waking man lifted a hand to his tender scalp, groaning as he felt the quickly bruising bump. "Urgh… Absolutely crappy. But I guess I'm alive." He cracked an eye open, then shut it quickly. "Aw, the sun's too bright…"

Judging by the amount of time he was unconscious and his current light sensitivity, I was almost certain Dev had a concussion. The man tried again to blearily open his eyes and take in his surroundings. "What happened? Why's my head hurt so much?"

"Shhh," Alicia chided, gently removing Dev's probing hand from his face. "We got ambushed by the Pill Thieves. We're out of the house now, but people are looking for us. Noodle's friends should be here soon to get us out of here."

A car rounded the corner…

It was our beat-up Lexus. I could see a broad figure at the wheel with a bowler hat tilted low over his face and his coat collar turned up – Russel in disguise. Relief bled through me.

Russel drove inconspicuously, keeping the car's noise to a minimum as he coasted down the road and braked to a gentle stop beside us. I could now see 2D crouched in the backseat, a black wig – probably one of Donna's – covering his blue hair. As soon as the car stopped, he threw the door open. His gaze skated over us frantically. "Are you guys alright?" He squeaked, worry infused in his cockney voice.

"Dev has a head injury," I relayed. "He ought to take the backseat, so two of us can make sure he doesn't pass out while we're driving –"

"You're injured too," Alicia added sternly, glancing between my side and my face. "2D should keep an eye on both of you in the back; I'll take shotgun."

I nodded reluctantly, not wanting to draw attention to my injury but recognizing that it was best to be as cautious as possible. I started to rise to my feet, but a sharp throb of pain radiated through my side. I instinctively curled around the injury, gritting my teeth as the movement forced me to stagger and brace my palms against the ground.

" _Noodle!"_

"Quick, you get on that side –"

This time, I was the one being supported with a hand under each shoulder, Alicia and 2D on either side of me. My breath caught as I felt their warmth and strength gently maneuvering me forward, my muscles coiled tense and stiff as I avoided bending my sore midsection. I could feel their careful hands guiding me to the edge of the car, into the side seat. Someone relieved me of my cat-laden backpack before leaning me against the frayed seat cushions.

"Is she alright?" I heard Russel ask, voice laden with concern.

"I'm fine, Russ," I gritted out, trying desperately to keep my breathing level and light as my lungs expanded against my injury. "I just took a few hits to the side. There's probably nothing broken."

" _Probably?"_ He didn't look consoled.

"We can talk about this after we get out of here!" I hissed, shooting a nervous glance toward our backyard.

"She's right," I heard Alicia's calm but firm tone. "Dev, can you walk? Let's get you to the other side of the car. 2D can take the middle seat…"

The vehicle's weight shifted as the others entered the car. Doors slammed shut. I winced as we jolted into motion but felt a strong sense of relief as distance built between us and the infiltrated house.

A pale arm reached around me.

"Let's get your seatbelt on," 2D said softly, his fingers grasping the apparatus at my side and pulling it around me. I wanted to cry out when the rough bands tugged over my chest, but I bit the sound back. Tears prickled at the corners of my eyes.

"Noodle?" 2D's hand ghosted away from the clasp of the seatbelt before descending lightly on my leg. His gaze bored into mine. "Are you sure you're all right?"

Intense, just like this morning… I wasn't used to him looking so focused when he talked to me, and I also wasn't used to the slightly panicked look he'd had just before I'd nearly collapsed outside of the car, or the way his hand felt steady and grounding on my leg. "I'm fine," I said shortly. Speaking hurt.

"What happened in there?" Russel asked, glancing at us briefly in the rearview mirror.

"There were two of the Pill Thieves waiting for us," Alicia supplied. "We beat them in a fight, but there were already reinforcements on the way, so we had to duck out fast. Dev got hit in the head when one of them tackled him. I didn't see what happened to Noodle; we were each fighting different people."

"I'll get us back to the hideout quick so you all can get checked out by Dr. Khalan," Russel said. He sighed heavily. "Maybe we should stick around for a few more days, recover a bit –"

"No," I rasped. "We should get out of this town today." I was tired of looking out for the Pill Thieves around every corner. "After we drop off Dev and Alicia, we'll hit the road to Crawley."

"Noodle-girl, you're injured." Russel insisted. "I think Dr. Khalan really ought to check you out."

I forced a smile, ignoring my pain as much as possible while I responded, "Russ, I know you're worried, but I need you to trust me when I say I'll be fine. I'm hurting, but my ribs aren't broken. I just need to rest for a while, and I'll sleep easier once we're out of Manchester."

I could feel 2D's eyes on me as I spoke. I turned my head to see him staring at me intently, gaze fixed and focused, searching.

He looks like a completely different person with that serious expression on his face. His stare is a bit unnerving. What, have his new pills taught him how to never blink?

When he turned to face the front seats, I became aware of how tense I'd felt under his gaze. "If Noodle doesn't think her ribs are broken, she's probably right," 2D's voice was crisp and firm. "We can make sure she has plenty of time to rest when we get to Crawley."

Russel was silent for a moment. His eyes narrowed in the rearview, and I wondered if he was going to object 2D's statement. "You know," Russel said, "Your serious mode is really starting to freak me out. I feel like I'm not even talking to 2D."

Russel's statement was blunt, but admittedly, I had been thinking the same thing since this morning.

The singer's face twitched. For a moment, I thought I saw a flash of 2D's familiar hurt-confused-kicked-puppy expression, but it disappeared quickly below a cool, hard mask. "Noodle and I are ready to leave town. _You're_ the only one who's hesitating."

 _Ooh._

The car seemed to hold its breath after 2D released his barbed statement. I could see Russel's eyes widen in the rearview. I stared at 2D, hardly recognizing the cold, fierce set of his features.

Suddenly, his face broke.

A crack in his icy exterior, as if struck by the burning realization of how harsh and cold he had just sounded. His eyes stretched wide, his jaw gaped slightly, and his skin seemed to become a shade paler than it had been a moment before. 2D stuttered, "R-Russ, I… I don't mean to sound like… Like I don't appreciate you wanting to make sure Noodle is okay…" Gosh, it was like seeing terminator transform into a scared rabbit. "I just… I agree with Noodle, and I really think we should get out of t-town."

I wasn't sure what was more painful – seeing my friend transform into a steel-faced specter or watching him break back down into a shuddering mess I hadn't seen since his withdrawal.

Then the car hit a bump, and I had worse pains to think about.

I flashed a hand to my side, trying (and failing) to suppress a pained groan. 2D turned toward me, his eyes wide and wild. "Noodle!"

"I'm fine," I wheezed. But gosh, it hurt. I wanted to curl into a ball and not move for hours.

A long arm was winding over my shoulders.

"Lean on me," 2D said. In a soft voice meant only for me, he added, "I… I know you're in more pain than you want to let on."

Having no desire to remain sitting up straight, I gratefully sunk into the singer's side. The bumps and cracks in the road seemed less jarring with my body curled up, with 2D's lean frame softening the car's jerks and his hand on my shoulder holding me close and steady. Sighing, I tucked my face against him and wondered if I could get any sleep like this, escape from the pain for a while.

"Well…" Russel sounded startled. He was probably as shocked as I was by 2D's rapid jump from caring friend to serious and cold to stuttering mess and back again. "I suppose if Noodle really thinks she's okay, we can head for Crawley today. But if anything gets worse, I'm turning this car around."

Dev was still out of it, but I could feel Alicia's curious gaze… She may not have known 2D for as long as Russel and I had, but even to an outsider, 2D's behavior was _weird_.

I frowned. I thought I felt a slight tremble in the body holding mine. I though back to how quickly 2D had flipped after he fired his verbal bullet at Russel. I think, out of everyone in the car, he was the most surprised (and unsettled) by his own behavior.

I had always assumed that 2D before he joined Gorillaz and got hooked on pills was just as sweet, friendly, and goofy as the 2D I had always known. Recalling the darkness of the dormant personality that had burst out of him lately, I couldn't help wondering if I had been wrong.

. . .

 **Coming Up Next: For real this time – the band gets to Crawley! What will the band learn when they reach 2D's hometown? Will 2D's strange behavior continue?**


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12: Crawley**

 **Disclaimer: See chapter 1**

Our trip back to the hideout was brief. After dropping off Dev and Alicia, we stayed only long enough for Russel and 2D to grab any possessions we had left in the house and say farewell to our friends. I remained in the car throughout this exchange, granting my injured side some much-needed rest. Tyler managed to dig up an old cat-carrier from the attic. He also dug up a copy of our Demon Days album, which we signed for him as a trade-off. Finally, with Katsu stowed in the carrier and Tyler and Donna waving behind us, we took off for Crawley.

2D had elected to share the backseat with me. I got the feeling that both he and Russel were still worried about my injury and would keep a close eye on me until I showed signs of improvement. I wasn't going to complain – it was a relief to be able to slump into 2D's side as the car took off and feel his steadying arm mantled over my shoulders, a warm thumb tracing the edge of my shoulder blade in soothing strokes. I appreciated having a shoulder to lean on, even if the shoulder in question was a bit underfed and bony. 2D had plenty of warmth to share.

Speaking of 2D…

We were going to have to talk about what had been going on with his mood lately. Given everything that the man had been through, he had every right to be confused, moody, and even angry. However, the suddenness, unpredictability, and intensity of his mood swings were making me uneasy, and I had a feeling Russel felt uncomfortable as well. The 2D I had known for the past twenty years wasn't the type to lash out. Heck, he hated lashing out. He was a peacemaker, someone who wanted everyone to be okay, who wanted the people around him to be happy. 2D's whiplash of guilt following his earlier dig at Russel proved to me that the side of 2D I knew was still there, and that he was unsettled by his own behavior. If I wanted to help 2D come to terms with his newfound emotional intensity, then we were due for an honest conversation.

I had ideas about the current landscape of 2D's mind, theories about a latent personality rising to clash with the persona he had been sporting for the past 20 years, but I wanted to hear about it from 2D himself – better to ask than to assume his mental state. I hoped that 2D would feel comfortable talking, given how potentially sensitive the topic was. The singer and I had dwelt on deep, personal matters together in the past, often sitting shoulder to shoulder as we were now, but that was when he was on the old pills, when his thoughts were less guarded and he was without the presence of mind to decide which things might hurt to talk about. 2D might prefer to discuss his mind in private later, and that would be fine with me, but I felt that Russel also deserved a chance to hear and understand what was going on in the singer's head.

"Hey…" I started, adopting a vague, nonthreatening tone. My cheek slid against the coarse fabric of 2d's T-shirt as I turned my head toward his. "How've you been feeling today?"

2D's dark gaze flickered towards me. Judging by his tired, nervous expression, I was pretty sure he saw right through my peaceful opening. "I… well, I've mostly been fine," He posited with a shrug, offering a small smile. "But… I'm not used to the way my head feels yet. Sometimes it's a bit… hard to deal with."

Russel grunted sympathetically. "It can't be easy, figuring out everything that's going on in your head… You've changed a lot over the past couple of days." His eyebrow quirked curiously. "Would you mind explaining what exactly is going on in there? Y'know, from your perspective?"

I was glad to hear Russel encouraging 2D to open up. I could feel the singer's muscles relaxing as he hummed softly, tilting his head in thought. "It's a bit hard to explain… Most of the time I'm normal-ish, or as normal as I can be with the way things are… erm… _moving_ , in my head. It's like everything's sped up, I'm thinking faster, and I'm remembering things, and things make more sense, which is great! It's also weird though… I'm used to coping with things not making sense. I always just let things be, and thought that if there was a problem in my life, I was better off not bothering with it and just waiting for someone else to fix it."

My face drooped a little as I contemplated his words. To think of how powerless 2D had felt, how resigned to the blurry life his pills had left him, made my heart ache… And it also made me feel something more intense. I was… _angry_ , I think, at anything and anyone involved in the process that led him to that state (I'm thinking of you, Murdoc). My anger wasn't overwhelming. It was a flicker in my chest, but it was enough to make me certain that if _a certain bassist_ turned out to have an even darker role in 2D's suffering than that I have known, he would have hell to pay from me.

2D continued. "With my mind moving faster now… With me _thinking_ about things… My head won't let me let go of things like I'd been doing. I think through things before I can remember to drop them, and the next thing I know, I'm angry about something, or sad about something, or really, really serious about something. I'm not used to trying to control things in my life, but now… I'll just find myself _needing_ control, wanting it so badly and getting all emotional over it. The next moment, I'll suddenly realize how I'm feeling, and what I'm doing, and it freaks me out…" 2D dipped his head, glancing shamefully at Russel. "I really am sorry I snapped at you earlier. I didn't mean to. And… it scared me, when I realized I'd just acted all mean and… and jerk-y!"

"It's okay man. I get it." Russel scrunched his brow. "I mean, I haven't completely wrapped my head around how your mind is working, but I understand enough to cut you some slack, and I wanna support you."

The shadows were lifting from 2D's face. "Thanks, Russ. I'm really glad you're here for me."

I raised a fist to gently punch 2D's chest. "We're both going to be around to help you through this, 2D. Whenever you need support, you can talk to us."

2D's free hand brushed mine lightly before drifting back to his lap. His smile was soft. "Thanks."

We sat in silence for a minute. I watched 2D's face. His eyebrows seemed to be twitching slightly. As his expression shifted into a thoughtful reverie and his lips pursed, I got the sense that there was something important on his mind, a question on the tip of his tongue. Sure enough, after a few moments, he looked up to seek Russel's eyes in the rearview mirror. "Hey Russ…"

"Yeah, 'D?" Russel encouraged.

2D's fingers tapped anxiously against my shoulder. "Uh… I've been trying to remember times I went off my pills. I think there might have been two times, and… One was right after Demon Days was released. I know that Noodle was off on a trip to Japan, but… You… Were you there?"

Russel frowned, his pale eyes flickering in the rearview mirror. Slowly, he nodded. "It's a bit complicated… I wasn't there immediately after you kicked the pills; you were missing for a couple of days. Long enough for you to go through withdrawal, I think. Then I was only around you for about an hour after I found you, 'cause you left right away."

2D let his fingers go still as he stared at Russel, rapt with focus. "What did I act like when you found me?"

Russel sighed. "You were kind of a mess at first. Which makes sense, considering you'd been stuck under a metal sheet in a mud puddle at a junkyard for about a week and thought that Noodle had died in the El Manana video… You were very sad, and drained. But the moment I told you that Noodle was fine, you got really moody and serious. A bit like some of the mood swings you've been having, but worse… Being around you felt unsettling, like… The atmosphere was _heavy_. And there was no relief from it. You never switched back to being happy and friendly, you were just scowling the whole time and looking like you wanted to hit somebody."

2D winced. "I was worried about that," He murmured. "Whenever I try to think about it, I get all these negative feelings… But…" As he tried to find the right words, I slid my hand over his, gently holding his wrist in a sign of comfort. The singer breathed out slowly. "I think that if I can understand what happened then, it'll help me figure out what's going on now. I mean, I must have made some progress the other times I was off the pills, right? But I just get bad feelings when I think about them, and I think the second time around was even worse than what happened after Demon Days…"

I recalled how, the night before, 2D had said something about a situation on Plastic Beach… I wanted to ask him more about it, but I could see his face contorting, his wrist was trembling slightly in my grasp –"

– " _I think through things before I can remember to drop them, and the next thing I know, I'm angry about something…"_ –

My quest for knowledge could wait, and for the moment, so could 2D's. There would be a time for him to work through his feelings, but not when we'd already had a rough day and were preparing to meet his family. If 2D was having trouble stopping his mind from speeding down paths to frustration and anger, then the best thing I could do for my friend was help him know when to change the topic. "Do you think both of your parents will be home when we arrive?"

2D blinked. It was like seeing someone wake from a bad dream, the way the crease in his forehead disappeared and his eyes widened slightly in surprise. "Oh. Um… Well, Mom always got morning shifts at the hospital, but Dad's work at the carnival would keep him late sometimes… They could be retired by now, for all I know. They're both in their sixties." He squinted, sticking his tongue out slightly in deep thought. "It's hard to predict without knowing their current habits… But I know they always liked to spend evenings at home, whether they were entertaining guests or just watching some telly. I'd say we're pretty likely to meet both of them when we arrive."

He was smiling slightly now – I guess he had remembered how excited he was. "There's also a chance other people will be over – they got on well with neighbors, and they'd always give out invitations left and right when I was growing up for people to come over! My aunt used to come over often too, and my cousins who live a little closer to London." Suddenly, 2D looked concerned. "I suppose there's also the chance that my parents will be out visiting someone else."

I chuckled. "If they're out, we can always find a hotel and drop back in tomorrow. It's nothing to worry about."

2D smiled bashfully, laughing back. "Yeah… I guess there's no point getting worked up over it."

2D's hand opened, and I let my fingers slide down to meet his. "Tell me more about your parents. What was your house like growing up?"

With a grin, 2D began describing the ways his parents would prepare evening dinners with friends.

. . .

After about an hour of talking (and mostly listening) with 2D about his family and childhood home, I fell asleep – or at least, half-asleep, drifting in and out of consciousness while tucked into the warmth of the singer's side with a song of heartbeats and roaring tires as a lullaby. After our hectic morning, it felt nice to close my eyes and stop thinking for a while. I could occasionally hear Russel's and 2D's voices through my semi-aware haze. It sounded as if they were making amiable conversation, and I didn't sense any waves of strong emotion or mood shifts from the singer I was snuggling. When I finally woke about 5 hours into the trip, Russel handed me a to-go container from a drive-thru I had slept through and told me that we were nearly in Crawley.

At some point, 2D's excitement had transitioned into nervous anticipation. His shoulders were stiff, his eyes flighty, and his laughter as he joked with me and Russel had a hysterical edge to it. A few hours of rest had left my injured side feeling somewhat better, but I continued to lean against 2D – maybe he would find some comfort in the contact. Besides, I didn't want to give up his warmth.

. . .

"Is this the right place?" Asked Russel.

"Yeah," 2D breathed, "This is it."

We pulled up to the curb.

Neat lawns and modest houses lined the homely street, their clean colors washed out in the dim, gray hues of dusk. The homes were neither new nor shiny, but they had a well-aged dignity to them and looked well taken care of, their paint jobs moderately fresh and their gardens well-trimmed. The structure we had approached was covered in two stories of yellow siding and nestled within a bed of pink azalea bushes and hostas.

2D was shivering as he looked out the window.

Russel opened his door and stepped out into the dark evening air, reaching to grab Katsu's carrier from the passenger seat. Glancing back towards us, Russel called, "You'd better lead the way, 'D. They'll want to be greeted by a familiar face."

2D was frozen in his seat, staring at the house as if it were a courtroom and he were a killer. His hand was clasped around his seatbelt, his knuckles blanched white as he squeezed it tightly. He jumped when I playfully jabbed my elbow into his ribs. "Better not lose your nerve now," I joked. "I have my heart set on meeting your family."

I looked up at him, smiling encouragingly until he gave a nervous smile back. "Y-yeah… No turning back." With a tremor in his hand, he pushed the car door open. I followed him out, grimacing slightly as the still-sore muscles around my ribcage stretched.

We trudged slowly up the narrow walkway to the red front door. 2D still looked painfully nervous. His head was bowed and his spine bent, shoulders folding over into a guarded slouch. The toes of his shoes scuffed the rough concrete.

I grimaced. He really shouldn't drag his feet like that. If he's not careful, he's going to –

2D's foot caught on a rise in the pavement.

– _Trip._

"Aah!" 2D squealed as he lurched forward, arms flying out with windmill-like sweeps as he tried to regain his balance. I darted forward and catch him, but an intense pain in my side reminded me that quick movements were a no-no, and I had to stagger backwards to prevent myself from falling over. Russel, his hands full with Katsu's carrier, gawped helplessly at both of us, watching as 2D pitched forward and hit the ground, landing hard on his arms and elbows.

"Owww…"

"2D!" Mindful of my own injuries, I got to his side as quickly as I could withstand, Russel following frantically.

"'D, man, you alright?" The drummer asked, his eyes full of concern as 2D groaned on the ground. 2D lifted his face slowly, wincing. He pulled one forearm off the ground and turned it over, revealing an array of lurid red scratches from where his skin had scraped the rough concrete.

I grimaced. "That looks like it stings… We should get to the house and see if your family has a first-aid –"

"Hello? Who's out there?"

Apparently, our clatter on the lawn had attracted the resident's attention. A woman stood in the doorway, her slumped, ageing figure silhouetted in the warm, yellow lights from the house, casting a long shadow on the twilit lawn. The house-light threw the red marks on 2D's arm into sharp relief, and the woman's eyes went wide. "Oh dear! Are you alright, young man?"

"I'm fine, Mom," 2D replied distractedly, still wincing in pain.

A moment later, the man's breathing hitched as he realized what he had just said, who he had just spoken to.

The woman looked thrown, confused by the sight of this unfamiliar group of people congregated on her lawn, one of them fallen almost prostrate on the ground… His head bowed and still in shocked silence, blue hair gleaming in the light of the house…

She gasped.

"S-Stuart?"

2D didn't move consciously, but his shoulders were shaking.

"Stu? Is… is that… is that you?"

Slowly, his face still rigid with fear, 2D raised his head. By careful increments he lifted his gaze to reflect the gleaming house lights, acknowledging the shocked figure in the doorway. When his eyes caught the light, I had to hold back a gasp of my own – usually pitch black, his eyes had blanched white with terror.

"Ummm… H-hi, Mom."

The woman ran to us.

"Stuart, it's you! It's really you!" She crouched beside her son and threw her arms around his shoulders. For a moment, 2D didn't know what to do, his body frozen, his face a mask of shock. Then, like a dam breaking, He was falling onto his mother, sinking into her arms, pulling her tightly into his chest as tears welled up at the corners of his eyes.

"Mom…"

He was crying. I could almost feel the release of his emotions, my own heart unclenching as 2D buried his face into his mother's shirt, leaving wet blotches in the pale peach fabric. Mother and son trembled in each other's arms, overwhelmed.

"Rachel, what's going on out there?" A aged, warbly male voice called from inside.

The woman pulled suddenly out of 2D's embrace. "Oh, Stuart, your arms… DAVID! Get my first aid kit; meet me at the kitchen table!" Then she was pulling on his hands, helping 2D to his feet. "Come in! I'll get you patched right up! And who's…" Her gaze flickered between me and Russel before she beamed at us. "You're his friends in that band! I've seen you on the computer. Please, come in!"

. . .

Rachel and David Pot had a bright, warm kitchen with a round table, meant for smaller family meals. We would all fit easily around it. Rachel was wrapping gauze around 2D's scraped arms, even after he insisted that they didn't hurt that much. The woman merely insisted that she "Hadn't had the opportunities to care for her boy in too long" and "didn't become a nurse for nothing." 2D's father, David, was with Russel, unloading bags from our car into their guestrooms. As soon as we had entered the house, the Pots had requested that we spend the night, pointing out that they had just enough guest rooms for each of us to have our own space. I was settling comfortably in a chair next to 2D. Rachel had been quick to notice my injury and had grabbed a cushion from the sitting room so that my side wouldn't have to rest directly against the hard back of the wooden kitchen chair.

Once the car was unloaded, David Pot strolled into the kitchen with a radiant smile and offered to grab us some beverages. His cockney voice imitated 2D's to a tee, albeit with a gruff rasp of age. Although he was far broader in the shoulder than his son, it was clear where 2D got his impressive height from. When everyone had a glass of water (except for 2D – David had grabbed orange juice for him, recalling that it was one of his son's favorites), David joined the table between his wife and Russel, who had sat next to me.

2D's initial excitement upon greeting his mother had denatured into jitters and nerves. I could hear his heel kicking the leg of his chair and see his fingers tapping ever-quickening patterns on the tabletop. His nervous smile posed an expression somewhere between I'm-so-excited-to-finally-be-here and oh-lord-what-have-I-gotten-myself-into.

"There you go," Rachel said as she finished bandaging 2D's left arm. "Doesn't that feel better?"

"Yes, mom," he said skittishly, ducking his head.

"Oh, don't play shy with me; I want to see my boy's face!" Rachel tucked a hand below 2D's chin and lifted his pink cheeks and black eyes to her line of vision. "Oh, it's so good to see you! I'm so glad you finally decided to visit!"

"I'm glad to see you, too," he stammered. "Um… How've you guys been doing?"

"Well, aside from missing you, we've been doing fine!" David announced. "I've been retired from my job at the carnival for two years now, but they still call me in now and then to do repair work. Your mother's cut back on work too. No more hospital shifts, but she fills in when the local elementary school's nurse needs a hand."

"Leaves me with more time to work on the garden!" Rachel added. "You know I was always interested in herb gardens! In other news, your aunt doesn't visit much anymore. She went and got married to some Australian bloke! But your cousin Trish settled down and has a family just on the other side of town. She's got two teens! Well, one of them's only eleven, but heaven help anyone who calls him a child to his face, that boy has enough strife to fill a soap opera!"

2D began to look happier as he relaxed into the conversation. "Wow! Didn't Trish always say she never wanted kids?"

"Oh, growing up changes people," Rachel said. "Of course, she did end up spending a few years traveling like she'd dreamed of doing, but her trips got shorter and shorter after Sam moved into town…"

It was fascinating to hear 2D talk with his parents. I'd never known much about my friend's past, since 2D's fractured memory had left him with only the vaguest sense of his childhood. As I watched 2D now, I noticed the way his face lit up every time his parents brought up someone from his past, as if he were only just remembering who that person was and reveling at the information flooding into that early space in his memory, blushes of color filling in swatches of a painting of his youth.

"What about that one guy…" 2D glanced towards his father, beaming. "The one you used to work with, who lived down the street?

"Mr. Richards, you mean? Divorced and remarried twice! Still lives there, but the stepkids have been replaced with cats!"

"And that kid who'd mow everyone's lawns during the day so no one would suspect he was the one egging them at night?"

"Benny!" Rachel reminisced. "His parents sent him to a military academy. Now he's an assistant principal at the middle school!"

Davit Pot cleared his throat. "As much as I love gossiping about the old neighbors, I'd really like to know more about what you've been up to!" he said with a grin. "All's I've seen of you in the past 20 years is your band's music videos! How's life been, Stu?"

2D froze up.

With a stir, I remembered that 2D's recollection of the past 20 years was blurry and incomplete. Furthermore, the parts he remembered most clearly tended to be the most painful.

Where would the singer begin?

"Well… I… um… I'm in a band."

Rachel laughed. "Yes, we've figured out that much!"

"I'm the singer, and… um… I do keyboard sometimes…"

His parents stared at him eagerly. 2D picked at his nails nervously.

"We were staying in a place called Kong Studio for a while… Eh… It was a weird sort of place… Then we were at an island…"

The poor man was sweating. Maybe he could use some help.

"2D's been our frontman for many albums," I chipped in with a smile, laying my fingers on 2D's clammy hand. "He's been great to work with and a great friend; you've raised a very kind son. Our band – the three of us, and our bassist who isn't hear right now – have had the chance to meet many other musicians and record videos around the world. Music has kept us very busy, but since we're taking a break after our last album, 2D thought it would be a great idea to show us his hometown!"

2D smiled thankfully at me, then returned his gaze to his parents. "Yeah – after I realized how much I missed you guys, I had to get out here!"

Rachel beamed. "I know I've said it already, but I'm just so glad you came home!"

"Although, we… we wish you'd visited sooner," David said sadly.

Rachel patted her husbands back. "Yes, we have both missed you a lot."

"I…" David's stutter reminded me a bit of 2D's when he was feeling emotional. "I understand that life keeps you busy, and you don't want to have to check in on your old parents when you've got famous musicians to work with, but… twenty years is such a long time…"

I would never have imagined that a man in his sixties could pull off 2D's doleful kicked-puppy expression. If I had tried to imagine it, I might have even found the image funny. But this wasn't funny at all.

Behind David Pot's crumbling smile was a tone full of heartfelt sorrow. As his face folded into that achingly familiar expression of emotional pain, the lights in the house seemed to burn less warm, the atmosphere felt heavier.

Rachel Pot had a hand on her husbands shoulder. She opened her mouth as if to break the tense atmosphere, but couldn't seem to force any words out. Her free hand darted to dispel an unshed tear from her eye. Finally, she choked out, "We really have missed you a lot, Stuart."

Beside me, 2D shivered.

His dark eyes could only meet his father's sorrow for a moment before they dropped to the table. His shoulders shook. "I…" His voice was so small… "I'm sorry." 2D spoke to the tabletop, unable to meet his parents' eyes. I could feel the pain and shame radiating out from him like the sweat on his skin. "I'm so sorry I never came back…"

"It's not 2D's fault he couldn't visit."

2D's parents glanced up at me in surprise; I don't think they had expected me to be the one to break the silence. The singer continued to stare at the table.

Despite a twist of nerves in my gut and a twinge in my side, I sat up straight. "Our bassist, Murdoc, is very controlling... He was our leader, but he's stuck in jail right now. He always decided where we would live and record from, and when we would take breaks. Even when we did take breaks, he liked to find ways to keep tabs on us and hold us nearby."

It actually wasn't that hard for Russel or me to get away from the bassist when we wanted to. However, especially after Plastic Beach, we had though it was important for at least one of us to be around to watch out for 2D's safety. Unlike the two of us, 2D was caught very tightly in Murdoc's web because of –

"My medicine."

Without lifting his gaze from the table, 2D summoned his parents' attention.

"Murdoc was in charge of my medicine, for my headaches," 2D said softly. "He was the only one who knew where it came from." His fingers twitched and crept into a fist. "Even if I had managed to grab some of my pills and get away for a while, I would have had trouble visiting you. I've been pretty… unwell."

The Pots' looked alarmed. I wondered if they were only reacting to the words 2D had spoken or if they too could feel the waves of darkness welling in the shadows of his eyes and the tensing of his muscles.

"You've been unwell?" Rachel Pot's voice was laden with worry and pain. "I'd heard you were in some sort of car accident all those years ago, but when I tried to check in on you at the hospital they told me you'd already left with someone… And I never saw you after that…" The lines in her forehead creased. "Did you get damaged _permanently_ from what happened?"

2D nodded. "I get headaches all the time. And my old pills left me practically braindead. I couldn't even _think_."

2D spat out the end of his sentence viciously. His parents blinked with surprise. If they hadn't noticed their son's mood shift before, they definitely could now.

Part of me wanted to grab 2D's shoulder and see if I could shake that burning expression off his face. However, I felt that 2D's parents had the right to know what had happened to their son. Also… I couldn't help wondering if 2D's parents knew how to deal with this. If 2D's mood swings were present in his pre-drugged personality, there was a chance that they had seen this before and could demonstrate the best ways to help him recover.

I watched David Pot curiously as he spoke softly to his son. "Stu… I had no idea that things had gotten so rough for you after you left… I… I would've tried harder to figure out where you were, to f-find you and talk to you and help you –"

"IT DOESN'T MATTER!" 2D shouted suddenly, his teeth bared. "Murdoc would've just hit _you_ with his damn car to keep you away! From the moment I met him, he lived to make me SUFFER!"

Oh, damn.

The room gaped at 2D.

Eyes squeezed closed, 2D buried his fingers in his hair. "He's responsible for all those stupid pills, and those stupid headaches, and my stupid bloody eyes… I hate him… so much…"

"Stuart," Rachel breathed softly.

2D's breath hitched, and the anger fell out of his body.

He shivered. 2D was shocked. His eyes had flown open and were stretched wide, full of panic. He gasped out a ragged breath as his shaking grew worse. His hands clenched tighter in his hair, as if trying desperately to stop quivering. "I… I'm sorry…" His voice was high and quavering. "I shouldn't have yelled – I – I THINK I NEED TO BE ALONE!"

He was out of his chair in a heartbeat. I gasped as he bumped into my seat in his haste. In the wink of time it took for me to steady myself, he was out of sight, his footsteps pounding on an unseen staircase.

Russel was rising from his seat, staring anxiously in the direction 2D had fled. "'D! I should catch up with him – "

David Pot placed a hand on Russel's shoulder. "I… I think he's run off to his old room. Maybe we should give him some space."

Rachel looked at us imploringly. "Is this a side effect of his head injury? Has it affected his self-control? Can… can he not handle his emotions anymore?"

My heart sunk. "Actually, I had been hoping you two could help us figure out 2D's mood swings," I murmured. "He wasn't like this for most of the time I've known him – I almost never saw him angry. This behavior just started recently, when he got a new pill prescription."

"With the new pills, he's been acting more like a regular person," Russel chipped in, "In terms of being able to think and reason, and balance better." He frowned. "But sometimes, he seem's like he's not himself at all."

"I suspected that his mood swings might be something he had before he started taking pills, back when he was a kid," I continued. "Did he ever behave like this growing up?"

David shook his head. "Stu was always a passionate boy, but he didn't snap at people unless they were really going after him, and that almost never happened!"

"What do you mean about him being passionate?" I pressed.

"He always seemed to be in tune with his feelings," Rachel explained. "Everything he did, he did with his heart and soul. He was upfront in telling people how he felt, and very confident…" The woman sniffled. "Honestly, I was more shocked by the way he looked when he entered this room than when he left. He looked so nervous and unsure… He was never like that growing up."

'Nervous and unsure' was a very familiar look on 2D to me. The man had definitely changed since his childhood. However, the mood swings were still unexplained. "You mentioned that 2D almost never snapped at people… Could you think of any times when he did?"

The parents paused in thought, David scratching his head and Rachel biting her lip. "Well," Rachel began, "There was that one time he got in a fight with another kid at school who had been bullying his friend… But everyone said that the other kid threw the first punch, so Stu can hardly be blamed for that…" She wracked her brain for more examples. "David, didn't Stuart come back from a bar looking like he'd been in a fight just a few days before he left?"

Dave nodded. "Yeah, I remember that. Rudy, one of the guys who worked there, told me about it. But it sounded like the other guy was asking for a fight; he'd insulted Stu's girlfriend and was mocking both of them for a good minute before Stuart did anything about it." David shook his head. "I just can't think of a time when he's really snapped at someone like that. He always respected other people's feelings too much to want to hurt anyone… It often seemed as if other people's feelings were more important to him than his own."

I nodded… That was true to the 2D I knew. I couldn't count the number of times I tried to cheer him up only to find him cheering me, with those soft eyes and gentle smile…

"He always had this knack for connecting with people," Rachel added to David's point. "He could look in your eyes for a fraction of a second and immediately know how you were feeling. He had very high emotional intelligence. His friends all loved how he understood them so well…" Rachel smiled faintly. "Of course, I don't have to explain this to you. You've been his friends for most of his life; you know how he is!"

I wished I could reassure Rachel that her son had never lost his emotional intelligence for a moment. While it was true that, after years of living with us, 2D had been able to pick up on mine and Russel's emotions pretty well, he had generally not been a good judge of others' feelings and character – not until after his withdrawal, anyway.

The information 2D's parents were providing gave me some background for the incredible insightfulness I had noticed in him over the past two days, but they had also made my concerns about his mood swings worse. The consequences of his mental landscape were something neither his pre- nor post-drug self had learned to cope with. It would take a lot of hard work, trial-and-error, and emotional vulnerability to find ways to help my friend…

. . .

 _Knock, knock._

"2D, may I come in?"

I heard no response from behind the closed door.

Standing in the hallway with bare feet and felt pajamas, I frowned at the closed door of 2D's childhood bedroom. Briefly, I wondered if the man was sleeping… It was probably good for him to get some rest, considering all the stress he'd been through.

I didn't want to be intrusive, but I was worried. 2D had been really upset earlier. I knew 2D didn't do well in isolation after a stressful day; he coped much better when he had the chance to confide his struggles to someone he trusted. Then again, the man I'd spent the past few days with was different from the singer I knew.

He was rational, insightful, and _moody…_ Don't moody teens like to be alone when they're upset? Goodness knows I liked my fair share of space when I was a teen. But… Even then, I always benefitted from 2D's company.

I would just have to go out on a limb and trust that 2D would benefit from mine.

"2D, I'm coming in."

I turned the cool knob, and the door swung noiselessly on its hinges.

The room was dark. With the thin beam of light streaming from the hallway, I could make out 2D lying belly-up, sprawled like a rag doll on his bedsheets. His hands drooped listlessly over the sizes of the bed, so limp they seemed almost lifeless. He barely moved as he breathed, his chest rising and falling by tiny, nearly imperceptible increments. His closed eyes didn't so much as twitch, and his mouth was very slightly open. Feeling a small twinge of disappointment that my friend was already asleep, I tiptoed silently out of the room –

"Wait."

Oh. Not asleep.

I could see his eyes now, gleaming darkly out of the shadows. "Come in… Shut the door behind you."

There was something eerie about his toneless voice – zombies groaned with more life than that. In spite of the chill I felt at his bleak voice, I stepped forward, closing the door as he had requested and plunging the room into total darkness.

I lingered by the closed door. 2D said nothing.

I was prepared to find 2D sad, nervous, or maybe even angry. I had braced myself to see him shivering again, holding back tears or pawing at the dried tear tracks already on his face, unable to control that high-pitched whimper he got when he was in pain…

But I didn't know what to do with this. Silence, stillness, _emotionlessness_ … This was new. I didn't like it.

After many long moments of silence, I stepped gingerly forward, my footsteps noiseless as the carpet hushed my approach. I reached out, feeling the air as I crossed the open floor until my fingers brushed soft sheets. I settled carefully on the edge of the bed, a small creak piercing the silence for a short moment before leaving us once more in a noiseless void. The room felt suffocatingly empty.

I felt around until I found 2D's hand. His cool fingers remained limp as I slid my palm into his, squeezing lightly. It seemed almost sacrilegious to break the silence, but nevertheless… "Do you want to talk?"

Still, 2D said nothing. I didn't know what to make of him. I'd seen him happy, sad, scared, angry, high out of his mind – but he'd never felt so lifeless. As the seconds stretched longer, his hand began to feel like a foreign object in mine, as if I were clinging to a piece of this void I had sough out, willingly walked into and closed myself within…

"There's something wrong with me."

The void almost felt worse with those words lingering in the atmosphere. I continued to cling to his palm, hoping my hand wasn't getting too sweaty.

"There's been something wrong with me ever since I met him… But now it's worse. It's worse 'cause I'm turning into him."

I frowned, suppressing a chill. "What do you mean?" I asked softly.

I thought I felt the tiniest quiver of his hand under mine. "Yelling at people… Being mean and angry… That's what Murdoc does. That's not what I do… That's not supposed to be what I do… But I've done it twice today. And I'm going to do it again. I'm still angry. Or, at least, I think I am. I'm trying not to feel it."

Murdoc… If he was starting to compare himself with the cruel, self-absorbed bassist, it was no wonder he would rather feel numb… "I don't think that's the best way to handle your feelings, 2D. 'Trying not to feel' is the same thing as 'bottling up your feelings,' and that never ends well. Eventually, they come out."

"So I'm doomed to be angry again," He murmured tonelessly. "I thought maybe you'd have something more reassuring to say."

"I can't reassure someone who doesn't want to feel anything."

Silence.

I turned my unseeing gaze towards the spot where my hand met 2D's. I wondered how our hands looked, whether his hand was as corpse-like and lifeless as it felt, and whether it was folding in my grip, crushed like a child's lifeless teddy bear. "So you think something's wrong with you." My voice resonated through the dark room. "I agree. Anyone whose been through what you've been through ought to be legally required to see a therapist afterward."

Silence.

"I think you'll find that no one holds this against you. I won't pretend your behavior isn't freaking people out. It's been freaking me out all day. But I'm still here."

Silence.

"The people who care about you don't stop caring when you need help. The people who've promised to be there for you aren't going to run away when being there isn't easy anymore."

Silence.

"We want to help you, 2D."

Silence.

"We're going to help you."

"What if there's nothing you can do?"

I was silent for a moment.

"I have brain damage, Noodle. Some things can't be fixed."

After another heartbeat of silence, I asked, "Do you really think physical brain damage is your main problem? It may give you headaches, but it's never caused you to be this unpredictably emotional. It's a serious problem, but I don't think it's unfixable."

Silence.

I thought back… "Do you remember yesterday, 'D? At the parade? You weren't angry then. You were so happy… And It felt so good to see you smiling and experiencing the world, using all your senses and logic which had been dull for years. You can have more happy days, we just need to figure out what's going on in your head."

"I was happy because I'd only just woken up, and I thought I was free," 2D droned. "I'm not free. I know that now. These memories I keep getting, these emotions, are trapping me. They're forcing me into a body I don't want, to be like someone I hate. I cant… I won't let it happen."

"Are you going to try to repress your feelings forever?" I asked.

I thought I heard a small _shuff,_ as if he had shrugged his shoulders against the bedspread. His hand tugged beneath mine. "Maybe I'll forget how bad I felt by tomorrow morning. Then I'll yell at someone again, and I'll remember why I need to shut it all out."

So he really felt that shutting down his feelings was the best way to deal with himself…

I wasn't going to entertain this fantasy. Not for a moment.

The mattress squeaked as I laid down. I rolled towards 2D, ending up with my face pressed against the side of his chest while I wound both arms around his waist –

"Noodle?"

"If you're not going to let yourself feel anything emotional, you're going to feel something physical."

When my hands met on the other side of his waist, I squeezed him as tightly as I could, pressing my nose into his side.

"You don't need to do that…"

"I'm giving you a hug."

As my face burrowed close to him, I dove deep into my own mind. I thought about other times I'd hugged 2D, times when we were both happy, times when one of us was sad and needed a pick-me-up, times when we just wanted to enjoy each other's comfort.

"You're not going to accomplish anything, you know."

I thought about how much I loved it when he hugged me, how I could feel his warmth and know how much he cared. I thought about how much I loved to see him smiling, laughing, looking at me with genuine happiness in his eyes. I thought about how empty his face probably looked right now. I thought about 2D becoming cold and uncaring.

"I'm not going to change my mind."

I thought about pains he had suffered over the years, about headaches, black eyes, isolation on an island of trash, hiding from someone who might hurt him, and how I was finally hoping he had found a way out –

"Noodle?"

– only to find that he had been defeated by his own mind. That he had chosen never to feel happy, so that he would never have to remember how unhappy he had felt. Lifeless 2D. Broken 2D. My friend, an empty shell.

"Are… Are you crying?"

Because that's what could happen if I didn't find some way to fix this.

"Stop…"

That's what he was trying to make happen.

"Stop crying!"

He wanted to disappear and leave me heartbroken.

"STOP IT, NOODLE!"

Movement.

I whimpered as the warm shape, the fabric soaked with my tears, was yanked away from me. Then I felt him, like a shadow looming over me. His hands were on my shoulders. His weight pushed me into the mattress.

"THIS ISN'T SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN! I'M NOT SUPPOSED TO MAKE YOU CRY! THIS ISN'T SUPPOSED TO HURT YOU!"

The heels of his hands were almost painful on my shoulders. I felt a tear that wasn't my own fall onto my cheek.

"Please… stop… crying…"

He was sobbing.

He was falling onto me, and I was hugging him, and he was clinging to me.

"I just want to stop hurting… I want everyone to stop hurting…"

He wasn't supposed to hurt anymore. He was supposed to feel better after enduring his withdrawal, after getting away from Murdoc, after getting out of town and finding the freedom to do what he wanted to do. "I want you to stop hurting too, 2D. But I won't let you stop feeling."

It was like we were back in his room in Manchester, waiting for his fever to settle, for his horrific, body-jerking shivering to stop as he was ravaged by withdrawal. "I don't know how to do this…" His voice was a cracking sob. "I don't know how to get better."

I didn't bother to quell my own tears as I rubbed my hand against his back, up and down, trying to smooth out his shaking flesh and give him some of the warmth I wanted to share. "I don't know how to make you better either… But we'll figure it out. Me, Russel, your family… We're all on your side. We're not going anywhere."

Hands clasped at my waist. Hot tears stained my shirt.

It would be a few minutes, maybe even an hour, before we both stopped crying. By the time either of us were calm enough to fall asleep, I would be too tired to even think about going to my guest room…

. . .

 **In case anyone's curious, this is the point where their friendship is going to start turning into something more intimate…**

 **Coming Up Next: 2D takes a break from his feelings to get some exercise, then feels tempted to visit his favorite pub!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13: Return to the Tipsy Terrier**

 **Disclaimer: See chapter 1.**

My cell vibrated… That would be my morning wake-up alarm.

I could feel it through the soft felt of my pajama pocket, rustling against my outer thigh as I groggily roused myself from sleep. The room was dark; it would probably take a minute for my eyes to adjust to the gloomy space. I was lying on my back on a soft mattress, and something… _someone…_ was lying on top of me.

2D's lithe frame was aligned directly over mine, his legs splayed among my own. His body emitted a trail of warmth from my hips, across my belly and chest, to my neck, where I could feel his dewy breath fogging, his nose nuzzling, soft fronds of his hair trapped below my chin. I slowly became aware of a sensation in my own hair, pressure, fingers… One of 2D's hands was there.

This was new.

It wasn't the first time we'd fallen asleep next to each other – we hung out often, and those hang-outs frequently led to us falling asleep side-by-side with the end credits of a movie humming in the background. But I could never, in all the time we'd spent together, remember having woken up so thoroughly cloaked by his body.

I hadn't thought about the position we'd been in the night before – I had just wanted to embrace 2D, to make him feel better, to make myself feel better too. But now… How could I not think about it? This is weird, right? To have your best friend lying on top of you all night? To wake up to his weight pressing over you, his warmth seeping into you…

Honestly…

It was cozy.

As weird, unexpected, and potentially suggestive as it was, I didn't want to move.

I felt his hair tucked against my chin, felt his hand in my hair… Where were my own hands right now? One rested next to my pocket, having instinctively wormed down to turn off my alarm the moment after it woke me. The other… I could feel fabric beneath my outspread fingers, and below that, the warm ridge of the sleeping man's spine, rising and falling softly in tune with the breaths on my neck…

Yeah, this was definitely weird. I should wake up 2D now.

And yet…

I felt awfully tempted to just fall back asleep. I was warm. I was comfortable. As strange as it ought to have felt, there was something soothing about being so close to 2D… Maybe it was because of how worried I had been for him lately. With the man pressed against me, I knew he was safe. I knew we were both safe. Come to think of it, this might just be the most relaxed I'd felt all week.

I sighed, feeling the way my chest moved against his, feeling a slight pang of sorrow. As much as I would have liked to enjoy this comfort for the next few hours, I had a responsibility to uphold. My wakeup call was set to 4 AM for a reason.

I let my hand slip off 2D's back and tapped his shoulder.

"2D… wake up, 2D…"

I wriggled, jostling the man lying on top of me. I could feel his breathing pattern change as a soft groan fluttered from his lips, his chest rumbling against mine. "Hnnnn… Noodle? Wha–" He was shifting, body moving over mine, a hand coming to life in my hair, tugging at it before wandering somewhere else. I heard a _click…_

2D's hand had found its way to a bedside lamp. I could see him now, drawn in warm light and soft shadows, balanced on an elbow as he hovered over me, so close we were almost nose-to-nose. His eyes winced against the light before furrowing in a moment of confusion, widening with recollection as he met my gaze. "Oh, um… Hey, Noodle." His breath ghosted against my face. "Um… I'll get off you now…" He was every bit as sheepish and awkward as I could have imagined, and I had to focus hard to suppress the heat rising in my own face as the singer averted his gaze and lifted his body from mine, crawling to the side until I could no longer feel his heat above me. He leaned back against his headboard while I adjusted my position, rolling and propping a hand under my chin so that I could see him more easily. My side ached slightly at the movement, but most of my pain from the day before had dulled.

Looking into the singer's face, I couldn't see any sign of 2D's distress from the night before, nor did he seem to have slipped back into an emotional dead zone. He merely looked anxious, avoiding my searching gaze as I looked at his face intently. "How are you feeling this morning, 'D?"

"I – I feel fine," he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck, "Y'know, normal-ish, stable, I'm not still angry or… or anything…." He stared at his knees, biting his lip. "I'm really sorry about how I freaked out last night, and cried all over you, and–"

"2D," I interrupted, "It's fine. You need to have the chance to work through these feelings, and I want to be here to help you." I laid a hand on his. His cheeks seemed to glow a bit pinker.

"I still feel bad," He said. "I've kind of sucked to be around lately, haven't I?"

I brushed my fingers against the back of his hand. "I won't lie; it stresses me out when I don't understand how you're behaving. But," I gave his hand a light squeeze, "I'm also excited. I'm learning things about you that I never knew before, and seeing a side of you that I've never seen. I had fun with you at the St. Patrick's day parade, and I want us to have more days like that. And I'm really looking forward to seeing you look as happy as you looked when you woke up that morning." Every word I said was genuine. I could feel stirrings of hope and excitement in my chest as scenes appeared in my mind, his wide eyes amazed smile as he saw the world like it was new, him laughing, him taking my hand as we charged into the center of the festivities… I craved more days like that.

2D relaxed. His lips formed a soft smile. "That was pretty amazing, when I woke up and everything was so clear. I was so excited to be able to think clearly, and feel fully, and be in control of myself. And it just kept getting more colorful and more beautiful and more amazing as we got closer to the parade." His eyes flickered towards mine. "And I felt like I was having more fun with you than ever, 'cause I could talk with you and joke with you and _understand_ you, and remember what you were saying." He beamed a silly smile. "You were always great company, but now that you don't confuse me as much, you're even better!"

I chuckled. Then yawned.

2D yawned back, stretching his arms over his head. "Geez, how early is it, anyway?" His eyes flickered towards the blackout curtains covering the room's only window. "It feels like the break of dawn."

"It's 4 AM," I replied. "There's probably another few hours until sunrise. I thought this would be a good time to go out and get some exercise."

2D stared at me, searching my eyes. "You want to get exercise… at 4 AM?"

"Yes, and you're coming with me," I chirped. "I thought it would be best to get out before the whole town wakes up. It's best not to be seen by too many people while the Pill Thieves may be on alert for clues to our whereabouts."

2D nodded, yawning again. "I suppose that makes sense…" He gave me another goofy smile. "Just don't be surprised if I fall asleep in the middle of whatever you have planned."

. . .

As I stretched on the front porch of the Pots' home, I had to hold back a laugh whenever I glanced toward 2D. Since his wardrobe consisted almost entirely of jeans and t-shirts, he had been hard-pressed to find suitable athletic ware. The man had dug through his childhood closet to find that the only exercise-friendly thing he could still squeeze into was a pair of very short green running shorts.

Very, very short shorts.

Bare legs seemed to stretch endlessly as he followed my movements and tried to touch his toes. They prickled with goosebumps – it was a chilly morning (or, more accurately, a chilly night), but once we got running, he would warm up soon enough.

I sat down to do a butterfly stretch, and he copied. His eyes met mine for a brief moment, then he looked at me again and frowned. "You're still laughing about the shorts, aren't you?"

"I'm not laughing," I replied with a smirk.

"In your head! I can see it in your eyes!"

"You assume I'm internally laughing at the shorts… Maybe I'm just laughing at you."

He stuck his tongue out at me. I laughed out loud this time. Then I winced slightly – my ribs still hurt a bit when I laughed. 2D's brow furrowed with concern as he drew his tongue back into his mouth. "Are you sure you're okay to run after everything that happened yesterday?"

I stretched an arm above my head, feeling the stiff muscles in my side slide over my ribs. "I'm just a bit achy. The more I move now, the less stiff I'll be later." I smiled. "Come on, let's jog."

We stood up, and 2D shifted nervously between his feet. A pale hand rubbed his goosebump-covered arm. "How far are we going to run? I'm probably not going to be able to keep up with you, you know."

I smiled comfortingly. "You get to set the pace. I don't want to push you too far yet, since you're new to this sort of thing. Just pick a speed you're comfortable at and see how far you can go. Let me know if your legs or chest start to hurt. We can stop whenever you need to."

2D smiled back nervously. "Alright. Should… should I start now?"

"Whenever you're ready," I said.

He took a deep breath and began.

I let him lead the way, trusting his recovering memory of the town's landscape. His pace was a slightly slower speed than I would have chosen on my own, but that was to be expected. Chilly starlight beckoned us forward as we jogged through the neighborhood, darting between the circles of yellow light cast by looming streetlamps, our footsteps echoing in the quiet air. Not a single car or walker greeted us on the empty streets and sidewalks. It was just me and 2D, chasing the stars through a quiet night.

In time, our breaths grew heavy, 2D's before mine, growing deeper and more forceful as our lungs demanded more air and our blood pumped faster to propel us forward. 2D's breaths possessed a ragged, whistling quality, the breathing of someone who wasn't used to exertion, whose throat was caught off guard by the rush of cold air cutting through it – I would have to make sure he drank something warm and soothing later, and teach him some breathing techniques to protect himself from the air's dry burn. The man's brow furrowed with determination as he pulled in breath after breath of cold air. My breaths were also strained, I could feel my lungs pushing against my bruised ribs, sending small aches through my side. However, I was reassured by the strength I felt in my body, even within my injuries. I knew I would be okay.

We reached the edge of the residential section of town. Ahead of us, the road divided a line of shops from a small park, complete with a playground, a stretch of grass, and some metal benches.

"Can we – _pant –_ stop – _pant –_ up here?" 2D panted, eyeing the benches wantonly.

"Sure," I breathed back, and we darted into the park. The grass hushed my footfalls. I glanced towards 2D to make sure he didn't trip on the uneven terrain, but despite his exhaustion, he seemed to be doing alright. "Before you relax," I instructed him, "do some stretches with me. I don't want you to get stiff."

Casting one last pining look at a nearby bench, 2D dropped into the grass with me to reach for his toes.

It took a few minutes for his breathing to calm down. I could see the sweat gleaming on his skin and the pink flush of rushing blood tinting his face. The singer had truly put his best foot forward this morning. I was glad that he was willing to commit to improving his body as well as his mind, and I was hopeful that his strength would build quickly.

"So – _pant_ – how'd I do?" 2D gasped lightly, his fingers spreading through the grass as he leaned back on his palms.

"Pretty good, considering you've hardly exercised in the last twenty years," I said with a smile. "If you keep pushing yourself, you'll be running in the Olympics in no time."

2D laughed hoarsely. "Yeah, sure." Letting the heels of his hands slide, he tipped backwards into the grass, his eyes reflecting the dim stars. "At least I can't feel the chill anymore… I need to cool down a bit."

I plopped into the grass and rolled next to him. "See? I bet you're glad you're wearing the ultimate short-shorts now. You'll cool off in no time."

He chuckled. "Yeah, I suppose I'll wear them all the time now, since they're so useful. Just wait till I show up in the next Gorillaz music video wearing a pair of short-shorts from my fifteen-year-old-self's closet."

"I dare you to," I snickered deviously.

2D winked. "Be careful what you wish for."

"Hmm…" I hummed thoughtfully. "I just realized that now that you're thinking straight, you'll actually be able to remember the things I dare you to do." I smirked. "The future will either be beautiful or disastrous. Probably both."

2D quirked an eyebrow. "Wait, have you been daring me to do things for years, and I just haven't remembered any of it?"

I nodded. "It was a kind of personal joke that started when we were working on the Demon Day's album. And it wasn't just you I dared… Remember the Mustache Russel grew out for the Dirty Harry music video?"

2D guffawed. "That was because of you?"

"Yeah," I laughed. "And the fez he was wearing. I dared Murdoc to grow a beard, but he didn't want to." I frowned. "He was actually a bit grumpy the whole time we were recording the album. He kept trying to remind us that he was our leader. I think he felt threatened since I had written most of the music. He actually tried to get back at me," I remembered with a small smirk. "He got really flustered and dared me to film a music video without his help. He didn't think I could do it."

A knowing grin dawning on his face, 2D inquired, "He _dared_ you to?"

I smiled. "It's _Dare!_

He laughed, and I laughed with him, remembering the shocked look on Murdoc's face when I beat his challenge, even as my memory was stained by the way he sulked for days on end afterward. Goodness knows the bassist could use a few hits to his ego, but his dark mood was no pleasure to live with, and I couldn't help feeling a bit bad for excluding my bandmates from the creative process just because Murdoc had made a spiteful dare when he was in a bad mood. At least Russel and 2D had been proud of me.

"Noodle?" 2D was staring at me, an expression of concern on his face. "You look sad about something."

Was I going to have to get used to nothing escaping the singer's notice? 2D's eyes seemed to look straight into my mind as I met his gaze. "I was just remembering how sulky Murdoc could be. I'm fine."

2D diverted his eyes to the sky. The dark night had paled somewhat. Stars blinked dimly from the deep gray expanse and shimmered in the dark gleam of the singer's eyes. "It's hard to stay happy when you're thinking about Murdoc, isn't it?"

I could feel the chill in the air more clearly as the man's face darkened. His shift in mood seemed to affect the whole atmosphere, and despite the distantly approaching dawn, the sky seemed to grow darker. I reached out with one hand, finding his in the grass, hoping that the small amount of warmth I had to offer would help him stay calm. With a shiver of trepidation, I realized that now was probably the right time to try to work through some of the darkness in his psyche. "2D," I began hesitantly, "I know that you and Murdoc never had a great relationship, but… Lately, whenever he's come up, it's seemed as if you have a lot of repressed anger about him that just wants to explode out of you. Do you think you could explain to me where your mind goes when you think about Murdoc?"

2D closed his eyes. His face was fixed with a grimace which seemed to grow deeper as I watched him think… Was it safe for me to encourage him to think about something that distressed him so much? I felt unease worming through my gut. 2D needed to work through this eventually, but I had to be careful not to rush him.

Finally, 2D began to speak. "I… When I think about Murdoc, I get all these memories flashing through my head. I can hardly focus on them because there's so many of them and they move so quickly, but I can still _feel_ each of them, and they make me feel hurt, and sad, and angry… My thoughts move so fast and I can't control it, I can't process the feelings and the memories and it all just starts to build up. If I try to ignore it, then the memories just keep playing in the background, and I keep feeling terrible. If I try to focus on one of the memories, then… Sometimes I'll just get sucked into it, and I'll feel whatever I was feeling then, plus the feelings from the other memories in my brain, plus this sense of anger I get from… From this sort of thing that I know, but I don't know…" I could feel his hand beneath mine moving tensely, tearing the fragile grass into shreds. "I'm not sure how much you've picked up on, with the way I act when we're talking about Murdoc and my pills, and the fact that Murdoc was the one who supplied the pills, but… I'm _certain,_ I _know_ that, somehow, he's tied up with those people who chased us at the parade and attacked you at the house." Knuckles jutted sharply from his clenched fist. "Every bad thing I've been through starts with him. But I can't quite remember how it all began."

"Are you trying to remember the car crash?" I asked.

He opened his eyes slightly, gazing through slits at the speckled sky. "There's… There's something else. Some detail about it I can't quite reach. Like, something happened around the same time as the car crash, something that had to do with _him,_ and when I try to think about it, I get angry and scared." He shivered. "I get the feeling that nothing's been a coincidence, not the car crash or the pills of the horrible headaches I've had over the past twenty years. I get this conviction that Murdoc's had it out for me since we met, like he's the mastermind of this big plan to ruin my life. I know it sounds far-fetched, but the way I feel when I think about it… I just… I feel so _certain_ that he wants to make me suffer."

I clutched his trembling hand, feeling how cold it had become. His hand moved, unclenching and turning his palm to mine.

I had my own suspicions about Murdoc and 2D's pills, but what the singer was suggesting went far beyond anything I had considered. I mean, a twenty-year-long vendetta? A master plan to ruin 2D? It really did sound far-fetched, especially when I considered how lazy the bassist tended to be. Then again, 2D's judgement had been eerily sound lately. He'd given me no reason to doubt his ability to interpret others' intentions and characters, and hearing about the singer's insightfulness from his parents had further reassured me of his incredible capacity for understanding others. If 2D really thought that Murdoc was capable of something like this, as much as it unsettled me, I had to consider it a genuine possibility. Of course, the fact that 2D was having trouble examining his own thoughts and memories about Murdoc could mean that his judgement was off, but I felt that 2D was certain enough of his feelings to be taken seriously. I squeezed his hand. "I'm glad you've opened up to me about this. I have a hard time imagining Murdoc actively holding onto a grudge for twenty years, but there's little doubt that he's somehow involved in this sketchy business with your old pills. I can definitely consider that he's had an even worse role in your life than I'd thought."

2D's hand squeezed mine back. "Thanks for listening," he said. "It feels good not to keep all of this to myself."

"Of course," I replied with a smile.

2D shook himself. "I'm getting cold again. Maybe we should do another exercise?"

Rolling to my feet, I offered 2D a hand. "I think we've got time for a bit more jogging before dawn."

. . .

We jogged deeper into town, past a few shops and around an old school that 2D used to go to, stopping to stretch and rest every now and then. I was starting to think 2D was a morning person as I watched him get into his stride, a smile blooming on his face whenever he met my gaze. Maybe it was just his joy at being back in his hometown.

Whenever we stopped to rest, 2D would point out different buildings and places he recognized. "That building used to be an ice cream shop! Mom used to take me there all the time! It's a shame it's gone… There's my old elementary school! My friends and I used to meet on the playground after school and toss random objects down the slide to see which ones went fastest… Look, that's Uncle Norm's Piano Emporium! Y'know, I started helping out there when I was thirteen! I liked the instruments so much, and I knew more than most of Norm's employees, so he kept me around and hired me as soon as I was old enough to work there…" It was fun to hear all these tidbits about 2D's past life, and cool to see how he seemed to grow more confident as we roamed through the town, as if stepping into the undauntable persona of his youth his parents had described to me the evening before. At one point, it hardly seemed like we were exercising any more. Instead, he was giving me a tour, pulling my hand as he ran from shop to shop, telling me about a time he had been there or someone he'd known who had worked there.

When orange streaks of dawn began to blot the stars out of the sky, we wandered back in the direction of his parents' house. Our hands swung together as we walked, clasped tightly and sharing warmth even though the sun's approach was already chasing the chill from the air. Around us, the earliest risers in the neighborhood were turning on their houselights, the occasional kitchen window illuminating as their half-asleep occupants drank their morning coffee.

When we finally reached the Pots' house, I was surprised to see movement in the driveway – David Pot appeared to be tinkering with the engine of his car. As he noticed our approach, he smiled and waved at us. I waved back.

2D smiled softly in the direction of his father. "I think I'm going to hang out here a bit, Noods. I want to catch up with Dad."

I gave his hand a parting squeeze and let go. "Catch you later, then." I watched as he walked up to his father, rubbing his neck as he spoke softly to the older man. David Pot put a hand on his son's shoulder and began to point out something inside of the car while I wandered inside.

. . .

"'D seems happy today," Russel noted, staring out the kitchen window towards the Pots' backyard with a mug of coffee in his hand.

I nodded, sitting next to him at the kitchen table, eating a sandwich and petting Katsu who purred blissfully in my lap. "We talked through some of his feelings when I took him out to exercise this morning. Maybe being able to talk about it helps him keep his moods stable."

Russel hummed. "You took him out to exercise… Is that why he's wearing those ridiculous shorts?"

I stared out the window with him. "Yep."

Russel continued to stare out into the backyard. "Look at him out there… I never would have though he'd make such a good mechanic."

Through the window, Russel and I could see 2D and his father tinkering with a lawnmower. I had warned 2D's parents about the Pill Thieves, so when the sun rose and the neighbors began to creep outside, 2D and his father had moved their conversation from the car in the front driveway to various mechanical tools in the backyard. Now, the Pots' weed-whacker blade spun much faster than any safe gardening tool ought to, the mechanical chainsaw was now a mechanical _flame_ saw, and both men had smears of motor oil on their arms and maniacal smiles on their faces as they inserted a strange contraption into the lawnmower's engine under the warm noon sun.

"I guess it makes sense, since his father repairs machines at a fairground," I reasoned. "I'll bet 2D liked to tag along when he was little and help out."

Russel's brow furrowed. "I wonder if I could convince 2D to do repairs on my car… Without, um, making the tailpipe shoot flames or anything…" In the backyard, the lawnmower's tailpipe did just that, and David Pot gave his son a high-five.

"Hello, you two!" Called Rachel Pot as she entered the kitchen, beaming at Russel and me. "Have I told you that there's pie in the fridge?"

There _used_ to be pie in the fridge… I eyed a sticky, cherry-flavored spot on the plate that now held my sandwich. "Yeah, thank you Mrs. Pot!"

"Please, it's Rachel!" She said smilingly. Katsu raised his head to meow at the woman as she stepped closer, then purred as Rachel scratched his ears. "Oh, it's so nice to have Stuart back, and to meet his friends! I'm glad he's had nice people like you two to look after him!" Rachel glanced curiously around the room. "By the way, have you seen him?"

"In the backyard," Russel said, nodding toward the window.

Rachel paled as she saw the two men chuckling over her lawnmower. "Oh dear… I'd better go make sure they're not planning anything unwise. They always used to get a bit carried away with their projects…" Rachel opened the door to the back porch. "Feel free to join us. It's warming up into a lovely day!"

Russel glanced toward me. "Wanna get a closer look at that lawnmower?"

"My curiosity is killing me," I replied with a smile. Picking up Katsu, I rose to follow Rachel outside. Katsu's whiskers twitched as the scents from Rachel's herb garden flowed around us.

"Hey Mom! Hey Guys!" 2D greeted as we stepped outside. While Russel and I settled on some porch chairs, Rachel approached her husband and son.

"David, sweetie, I didn't think the lawnmower needed any repairs," Rachel said cautiously.

"Oh, but we had this great idea to improve it!" David cheered. "After we fixed the sticky gear on the weed-whacker and increased the efficiency of the chainsaw, we thought we might be able to add some power and flare to the mower!"

"It'll be much easier to push now, and quicker!" 2D chipped in.

Rachel's eye twitched. "I'm just not really sure we need –"

"Just watch this!" David announced, pulling a cord on the mower. Instantly, flames burst from the contraption's engine. The cord was ripped from David's hand as the mower shot across the lawn unaided before smashing into a tree.

David looked at Rachel sheepishly.

2D smiled innocently. "As you can see, the lawnmower is now much more powerful."

One hand resting on her heart, Rachel returned her son's innocent smile. "Stuart, honey, why don't you sit up here on the porch with me and your friends while your father makes the lawnmower a little _less_ powerful."

2D blushed slightly before joining us on the porch. Resigned, David got back to work on the lawnmower.

"Now that you're not down there to give him any _ideas_ , your father should be able to restore the lawnmower to its previous level of performance." Rachel shot her son a knowing look.

"What makes you think it was my idea?" 2D teased.

Rachel rolled her eyes before shifting her gaze to me and Russel. "This boy and his father used to terrorize me with their gadgets. David was always a creative engineer, but then Stuart came along and started asking how to make different objects shoot flames!"

Russel laughed. "Just seeing what they've managed to do in one morning makes me fear the thought of your house when he was young."

"Maybe you could work on Russel's car later," I suggested, smirking at 2D. "It could use some more _power_ and _flare_."

Russel's eyes widened. "Actually, I think my car's all flared-out. No room for more flare. Best to just not mess with it."

We laughed, and 2D ran a hand through his hair while smiling bashfully. "You don't have to worry about anything. Dad's the one with all the mechanical skills; I more of the idea-person and helper."

"Don't sell yourself short, Stu!" Rachel cried. "We both know you can wreak plenty of mechanical havoc without your father's help!"

"You seemed to know what you were doing when we were watching you through the window," I commented.

Rachel smiled at her son. "Haven't you had the chance to show off any of your skills to your friends before today?"

2D shook his head. "Nah, I haven't done anything like this since… since…"

The singer's face contorted, his eyes going wide and mouth going slack.

I poked him in the arm, feeling a mixture of curiosity and confusion. "Um… 2D?"

"Oh my gosh," he whispered.

Katsu tilted his head to the side as he regarded the singer and pawed at his arm, seeming to notice that I had failed to gain his attention. " _Meow?"_

Russel quirked an eyebrow at the singer, seeming equally confused by his behavior. "What's up, 'D?"

2D didn't respond right away. His hands clenched around the armrests of his chair. He seemed to be far away, swept into a memory, but his eyes continued to stretch wide and the shocked expression on his face didn't falter.

"Stuart?" His mother said.

2D seemed to snap out of a trance. His eyes flickered wildly between us. "Um, sorry, what?"

"I was just asking when the last time you had the chance to work on something mechanical was," Rachel reminded.

2D twitched again, his hands tightening briefly around his armrests before letting go, shaking slightly. "Um… I think I'll need some time to think about that question. I'll tell you about it later."

I stared at 2D with concern. I had never seen him do anything mechanic-like… Why was this question tripping him up so much? The man was sweating!

Russel seemed to think the best course of action was to change the topic. "So, 'D, is there anything you're planning on doing while you're in town? People to see, places to visit?"

2D seemed relieved by the change in topic. "Um, yeah! I mean, I don't just wanna go strolling through town, since we're trying to lie low from the Pill Thieves, but I thought it might be cool to visit a few places eventually. I'd love to show you guys some of the cool spots in town I used to go to! I showed Noodle some places this morning, but nothing was open yet."

Russel's eyes lit up. "Hey! I visited this town once ages ago, while we were touring the first album, and I went to this pub where everyone seemed to know you. They made me promise to bring you back if I was able!"

2D's relief turned into excitement. "You mean the Tipsy Terrier? I used to go there every night after work! I sang on open mic nights!" The singer was bouncing in his seat. "I wonder if Louis still owns the place…"

"Old Louis?" Overhearing from the lawn, David Pot chuckled. "He'd never let go of the place, although his daughter does most of the managing these days. I can't promise you'll find many other familiar faces, though. It's been awhile."

. . .

The Pots were overjoyed to have their son home, and before we knew it, we'd been at their house for five days. It felt strange to be staying so long, but 2D's parents insisted that they wanted to spend as much time as possible with their son. After all, they had missed out on twenty years of his life!

I continued to wake up at 4 every morning and drag 2D into the brisk morning air to jog with me. Progress was slow, but he was improving, breathing more evenly and requiring less breaks when we ran. Lazy afternoons were spent chatting with 2D's family and watching 2D tinker with his father in the backyard (under his mother's close supervision, of course). Sometimes, Russel and I would even lend a hand with the tinkering. 2D still hadn't said anything about his episode when his mother had inquired about the last time he had practiced his mechanical skills, but sometimes I would catch him looking at the oil smears on his hands with a shocked or nervous expression on his face. I had decided to let him face whatever memory they inspired in his own time, but I had to admit, my curiosity was growing with every passing day.

I kept up with various hobbies, reading science articles, playing with Katsu, and adding thoughts to a journal I used to keep track of ideas for new music. I smirked to myself whenever I saw the page of my journal where I had written in large block letters: REMIND 2D TO WEAR SHORT SHORTS IN NEXT MUSIC VIDEO. In the evenings, 2D's parents would either order out from restaurants that 2D liked or cook meals they recalled as his favorites.

2D seemed to be enjoying himself greatly. He still had mood swings. Sometimes, he needed to retreat to his room for a few hours to stew over his feelings. I gave him a listening ear when he wanted it and privacy when he just needed to be alone. Sometimes, he would let Katsu keep him company during his gloomy moods. Overall, however, he seemed to be getting better at managing his emotions and bringing himself out of slumps. More and more often, I saw him displaying a level of confidence I had never seen in him before his withdrawal. It was incredible to watch, and I felt warm inside whenever he turned his insightful gaze my way.

It was strange, perhaps even bittersweet, to have my best friend change so much… But to see him so happy, and to know that the caring person I had always known was still there, just different, meant the world to me.

"Hey guys," 2D chirped, glancing between me and Russel at the kitchen table with a cookie in his hand and midday sunlight streaming from the window behind him. "I've been thinking… We've been in town for a while, the heat from the Pill Thieves has probably died down at least a little bit. Maybe we should try to go out this evening!"

Russel nodded. "I'm all for it, man! Your parents' house is great, but I need some fresh air and a new atmosphere."

I considered 2D's statement, brushing a thumb over my cheek. The knife scratch left by the woman on St. Patrick's Day was little more than a pale line now; I could barely even feel it. I knew that, beneath my shirt, the bruises on my side were still visible. Beneath them, however, almost no pain remained.

Although the signs of the Pill Thieves' violence were fading, it wouldn't do to stop being cautious.

"I also think we should go out," I said, "but we need to have a plan in case things go wrong. Going out means that word will get out about our location. Whether we run into fans or friends, someone will recognize us, and there's a chance that the Pill Thieves will come looking for us."

Russel nodded solemnly. "We'll want to be able to get out of wherever we are quick if the wrong people show up."

I nodded. "And we should make a plan for where we'll go next if we don't want to lead the Pill Thieves back here."

2D frowned with worry. "Yeah… I'm scared of what would happen if they ended up here. I don't want my parents getting mixed up with these people."

We made our plans. Our outing would be to the Tipsy Terrier. The bar was in walking distance from the house, but we would take the car anyway in case we needed a quick getaway. A few essentials would be in the car, and the rest of our possessions would be packed neatly at the house in case we needed to grab them and skip town. Russel had made a list of nearby hotels (and more distant ones) we could escape to if we needed to lie low. We would each be lightly armed. 2D had found his old collection of switchblades and given us each ones which would fit discretely into our pockets. Additionally, we each had working cell phones and an escape code: if one of us coughed then checked their watch, we needed to leave. If one of us sneezed then checked their watch, we were in immediate danger. Russel was the designated driver, and 2D and I were allowed to have no more than one drink each. We needed to stay alert. Once we got to the bar, all efforts to lie low were at an end – it would be pointless to attempt to hide our identities at such a crowded place where people were likely to recognize 2D, especially since one of our goals was to find some of 2D's childhood friends.

"Have fun and be safe!" Rachel gave her son a swift kiss on the cheek before turning to give Russel and I hugs. "I hope you have the chance to meet plenty of Stuart's old friends. I'm sure they'll be happy to see you!"

I accepted the hug from the kind woman gratefully. "Of course. We'll be back by eleven!"

"Oh, you kids – er, adults – can stay out as long as you like!" David assured. "I know it's hard to be cooped up all the time, and if Stuart meets someone he knows, I'm sure they'll want to spend all night catching up!"

David opened his arms and 2D walked into them, embracing his father tightly. "See you guys later."

We filed into the car. 2D took the front passenger seat so that he could give Russel directions, and I had the backseat to myself.

Was our plan foolish? Probably. Heck, definitely. The Pill Thieves were serious business and being in public would put us back on their radar. I wasn't sure how far this group's turf extended, but knowing how determined they had been the last time I had met them, I would be willing to bet that they'd pursue us even if we were a couple hour's drive away. At least the distance would probably leave us with one night of peace before the town became filled with those miscreants.

As dangerous as our plan was, the whole reason we left Manchester was to regain our freedom and to give 2D the chance to reconnect with his hometown. If we never tried to go out, our efforts would be wasted.

. . .

It was a Saturday evening. Two small windows broke through the rough, red brick exterior of the aged storefront. Warm, yellow light spilled onto the pavement outside. The glow fluttered occasionally when the patrons moved within the pub, drinks in hands and friends at their sides, appearing only briefly in the small windows before they disappeared. Above the storefront hung a large wooden sign bearing the image of a dog with swirling eyes and a lolling tongue, paws splayed over the title: _The Tipsy Terrier._

Despite the warmth of the evening, 2D shivered next to me, tugging at the sleeves of a long T-shirt. "It's been so long," he murmured, gazing up at the wooden sign. "They've re-painted the dog."

Russel slapped the singer on the back. "They couldn't let the paint keep wearing off forever, could they? C'mon, let's see if they've re-painted the inside!"

2D looked nervous, just as he had when approaching his parents' home many nights before. I felt the sudden inspiration to wrap an arm around the man's waist, placing a firm hand on his other side and pulling him sharply towards me. 2D was startled by the movement. He yelped, then looked down at me in surprise. I met his gaze with an expression of confidence. "If it helps, just think of this as a regular night out with friends. No reunions involved, just three pals going to a pub."

"Yeah, man." Russel plopped a heavy hand onto the singer's shoulder. "Relax. We're just hangin' out."

2D's face brightened. "Thanks, guys." Suddenly, his smile seemed easy, his eyes gleamed with confidence as they fixed upon the bar's glass door. I felt a long arm weave around my own waist and tug me forward, leading me alongside 2D and keeping me pressed into his side as we entered the Tipsy Terrier.

2D didn't let go after entering the bar but allowed his grip to loosen slightly as he paused and surveyed his surroundings. He grinned. "Look, three empty barstools up there! Let's go!"

Most of the bar's patrons didn't look up as we passed them by, too immersed in their own drinks, company, and conversations to notice the shop becoming slightly more crowded. 2D received a few odd looks, including one woman who slyly whispered to her table, "Get a load of that guy's hair… I swear, I don't understand some of these fashion trends…" But there were no long glances or startled gawking to suggest that any of us had been recognized yet.

2D seemed determined to keep a hand on me as we reached the barstools – perhaps he was trying to channel some of my own confidence. I dragged my stool closer to his, closing the small gap between them so that we could sit side-by-side. Russel had slid his stool closer to 2D's as well, making it clear to anyone passing that the three of us had arrived as a group. When we sat down, 2D's arm slid around my waist once more. I briefly wondered how a passerby would interpret his gesture before thinking _to hell with it_ and leaning into the man's side. His warmth, along with the bar's cheerful chatter and the gold-hued lamplight, sent a flush of happiness and excitement through me – I had a feeling that, whatever may happen, we would have fun tonight.

A bartender approached us. I wondered if 2D recognized the woman, with her stout frame and lined, yet warm, expression. Her eyes lingered on 2D's face and hair for a moment, but she showed no sign of recognition as she stated, "Hello. My name's Janine; I'll be serving drinks tonight. What can I get you three?"

"Just water," Russel said.

"Whatever's on tap," 2D grinned.

"A cider," I requested.

The woman nodded before turning to grab a few glasses. In no time at all, we each had a drink in our hands and the first cool sips of their flavors on our tongues.

"The inside of this place looks pretty similar to what I remember." 2D was smiling as he gazed around the bar, golden lamplight dancing in his dark eyes. "They've changed the lampshades, and the stools have new covers, but everything else is really familiar. It's like I've stepped into the past!"

His arm tightened around my waist for a moment. I was surprised by the sudden pressure. After all, I was already leaning against him and the extra tug threatened to send me sliding off my stool. Fortunately, since we were sitting so close, I was able to brace myself against him and not fall over. The shift caught 2D's attention and, smiling, he loosened his grip. "Sorry, Noods. I forgot I was holding on." His arm unhooked from my waist and slid up to my shoulder. "So, what do you think of the place? You're the only one of us whose never been here before!"

I took in the warm atmosphere and the cheerful groups of people scattered about on wooden tables and barstools. There was nothing overtly special about the pub, but it seemed like a pleasant place. I could tell that it was extremely special to 2D, the way his smile stretched wide as he glanced about again and again, admiring every small detail of the décor like an old friend. I smiled at him. "It's great. This seems like an excellent place to spend an evening, especially with friends around."

He beamed. "Yeah! I used to meet friends here all the time! I was one of the regulars, knew all the staff by name." His smile grew wistful as he gazed behind the bar to the woman serving drinks and an assistant helping her prepare appetizers. "It makes me feel a bit nostalgic."

"Hey, 'D, what do you recommend as far as appetizers go?" Russel asked. "If I'm going to be the sober one tonight, I might as well try some of the food!"

2D grinned. "They used to make this great fried garlicky-cheese thing. It wasn't an official menu item, but everyone in town knew about it. It was the best! We should try to order it!" 2D looked back behind the bar. The barkeep was occupied, but her assistant looked free, so 2D flagged her over. "Excuse me, miss, does the Terrier still serve cheesy fried garlic bites?"

The young woman tipped her head to the side. "I've never taken an order for them before, but I think someone in the back mentioned it once. Let me go check for you!"

"Thanks!" 2D cheered. He turned to Russel. "I hope they can make it. It doesn't sound like much, but it really was great! And they served it with this weird tangy sauce, it was like a mixture between sweet & sour and ketchup, but they made it work!"

After a few seconds, the young server reappeared in the doorway to the kitchen. Following her was a woman who looked around my age but with a poise of confidence and strength which made her appear somewhat older. She paused in the kitchen doorway with her arms folded, but despite her firm stance her smile was lighthearted and curious as she glanced across the bar. When her gaze fell on 2D, her eyes went wide.

"Stuart? Stuart Pot, is that you?"

2D jolted in his chair, looking up at the woman with amazement. "You… You're Ellie, aren't you? You're Louis' daughter!"

The woman grinned broadly, approaching our spot by the bar. "Folks call me 'El' now, but yeah, that's me! I'm surprised you remember!"

2D's smile was glowing. "Louis would bring you to the bar with him sometimes, you were so small then! Weren't you ten when I last saw you?"

"Weren't you only seventeen?" She replied. "It's been so long! Hold it, I need to go grab Pa, he's in the back right now!"

"Louis is here?" 2D's eyes glittered with excitement.

"Of course he is; I have to force him to close the shop and come home every night so he doesn't stay up 'till 2 AM chatting with the regulars! Stay there, I'll go grab him!"

The woman disappeared. 2D looked towards me with excitement. "Louis owned this place when I lived in Crawley! He bartended almost every night. I saw him so often that he was like an uncle to me!"

I felt happy for 2D as excitement filled his face. I was excited too. 2D had spent all week talking about the people who shaped his childhood, and now I was getting the chance to meet some of them.

Just then, I got a prickling sensation in my neck, as if someone were staring at us –

"Wait, hold on – is that Stu over there?" Shouted a voice by the Terrier's entryway.

2D glanced over his shoulder, his smile stretching ever wider. "Cory!"

'Cory' jumped with alarm when 2D turned to face him. "Good lord, Stu, what's up with your eyes? Are you wearing contacts or something?"

2D's smile faltered. "Um–"

One of the men Cory had entered the bar with ribbed him with an elbow. "Haven't you seen him on YouTube, Cory? It's a part of his act for that band he's in." The second man beamed towards us. "Remember me, Stu?"

2D tilted his head in confusion. Slowly, a hesitant smile dawned on his lips. "Your Alyssa's younger brother, aren't you? Max!"

"HA!" Max punched Cory's arm playfully. "We're on first name terms with a celebrity! Cross that off your bucket list, eh?"

Cory rolled his eyes at his companion before turning back to 2D. "Stu, I haven't seen you since we were both in school together! You dropped off the face of the earth and reappeared on MTV or something! How've you been?"

2D chuckled nervously. "Life's been crazy; it's hard to know where to begin! How've you been?"

Cory laughed. "It really is hard to know where to begin, isn't it? Should I start with my job or my husband?"

"Stuart!"

A new voice, rasping slightly with age, called from behind the bar. I turned to see El walking alongside an ageing man, whose wrinkled face had split into a large grin. "Look whose back after two years of poor patronage! I had to start letting other people use your regular seat at the bar, you know!"

"Louis!" My seat jostled as 2D rose from his, reaching over the bar as if wanting to embrace the man over the counter.

"Don't stretch yourself out; I'm coming around!" Louis chided the singer with a smile as he hobbled around the edge of the counter. 2D rushed up to the man and greeted him with a hug. "Louis, it's so great to see you again!"

"What, no hugs for your old schoolmates?" Cory pretended to sound hurt.

"You guys…!" 2D released Louis and rushed over to greet his childhood friends. "It's great to see both of you!" 2D's head turned my way. "Noodle, Russel, I want to introduce you to my old mates!"

Russel and I exchanged a glance. "He seems pretty happy with the way things are turning out," Russel commented.

I smiled up at the drummer. "He's just rediscovered his childhood friends. Who wouldn't be happy?"

As we strode towards the knot of people, Max pulled out his phone. "You know who was just talking about Stu the other day? Tim McKensley! I gotta call him over here…"

. . .

It was incredible to witness how many people could cram themselves into the modest-sized bar. One phone call had turned into two, two into four, four into eight… The next thing we knew, El's and Louis' staff were dragging extra chairs and barstools from the back to try and accommodate every old friend, curious neighbor, and celebrity-aware townie who flooded into the Tipsy Terrier.

2D was overjoyed.

"Noods, Russ, this is Kevin! He was my best friend in primary school! And… Is that Trissa? You married Trissa!? I thought you two hated each other! Wait, are you _pregnant?_ "

"Guys, these are my friends Russel and Noodle! Yes, they're in the band with me!

Introductions went back and forth at dizzying speeds. I pride myself in having a good memory, but this crowd was a bit much even for me. Eventually, I had to give up wondering which couple was Kevin and Trissa and which was Devon and Alyssa. Nevertheless, I smiled for everyone and they smiled back, often shaking my hand and throwing in some comment about how they knew 2D. It was fascinating to hear all the ways people had met him. Most of them were his former schoolmates, but many also had interesting stories about odd ways 2D had caught their attention or earned their regard.

"Stuart's a real genius with people, you know? Five minutes after I and my ex met him, he told me the blighter was cheating on me, and he was right!"

"I'd heard he was handy with tools and asked if he could repair my motorbike. Somehow, he made it start shooting flames! That's when I knew he was cool."

"He used to give piano lessons when he had a bit of free time. He didn't even charge! I still feel like I ought to owe him something…"

Soon enough, 2D's old friends were clamoring to hear what he had been up to for the past twenty years. Most of them knew vaguely about Gorillaz, but wanted to know more about his personal life and adventures. Russel and I had our hands full trying to help guide the conversation to topics that 2D wouldn't have too much trouble with and filling in details where 2D couldn't remember. Inevitably, the conversation wandered once or twice into sensitive territory. 2D was faring surprisingly well. Being surrounded by his old friends seemed to have miraculously boosted his confidence.

"Where've you been living, man?" One friend asked, clapping 2D on the shoulder.

"We stayed at a place called Kong Studio for a while," 2D supplied, "But it burnt down. Since then we've moved around a lot, been to a couple of different places."

"And now you're back in Crawley! Thinking of settling down?" Another voice called.

2D shook his head. "Nah, just passing through. I wanted to visit my parents, but soon enough we'll move along to someplace new, have another adventure, write an album–"

"Working on another album already?"

"No, not yet," 2D laughed. "We're still on hiatus, but who knows what the next few months will hold?"

Excitement sparked in my chest when I heard 2D talking about the future in such an upbeat manner. After being stuck in that dilapidated house in Manchester for months on end, I was stir-crazy to start _doing_ things, _going_ places, and acting like a real band again. It was reassuring to think that 2D felt the same way, and I could feel tingles in my spine as I thought about what our next adventure might be. Judging by the smile on Russel's face, he was pleased by the beat of the conversation as well.

"Say, what ever happened to your girl, Stu?" One voice – I think it was Cory – called. "Paula! Wasn't she going to be the guitarist in your band? You were obsessed with her for ages!"

"Um…" 2D's stride broke for a moment, but he recovered quickly. "We just didn't work out, you know?"

"She was having trouble adjusting to the dynamic of the band," Russel chipped in. "She was… disrupting our workflow. In the end, we all agreed that she just wasn't going to function well in Gorillaz."

Another member of the crowd shook her head. "Paula didn't miss a beat, though. When you skipped town, she was the only one who could keep up well enough to figure out where you were. Not even your parents managed that!"

"Yeah, when the rest of us though you were still in a coma from that car crash, you two were already gallivanting off making music! Not a word to anyone!"

2D scratched his neck. "Yeah, sorry about that. Life seemed to be moving so fast then that I couldn't even keep up with myself…"

I frowned. Beneath his smiling façade, I had a feeling that 2D didn't like fishing for half-true ways to explain his behavior without getting into the pills and other painful memories. However, he knew as well as I that those topics were still too sensitive to bring up in public. This was no place to have a mood swing.

"Last I saw you before you disappeared, I wouldn't have guessed you were itchin' to spring off. I guess that car crash really changed you, didn't it? Triggered some sort of desire to live life to the fullest, eh?"

"The last time I saw Stu was at the piano shop," Another voice called. "Just another typical work day. You loved that job so much, I thought you might stay there forever!"

"Last I saw you was in secondary school. You never completed the final year! It's a bit of a shame, your grades weren't bad and you might've gone to college."

"I remember your last visit before you disappeared!" Louis croaked. "It was the night you got in that barfight! Remember that odd-smelling green man who came by and got you all riled up? He had the strangest skin tone, I've never seen anything like it…"

My brow furrowed. _A green man…?_

2D's grip was suddenly steel-tight around my wrist.

"Yeah, I remember that night!" Someone else called out. "You mean that dude with the greasy hair and the funny purple cape who was trying to make moves on Paula, right? He really whaled on ya, Stu! I remember how the staff had to drag him off you…"

2D's hand was shaking.

"But you showed him, didn't ya? That little show with your switchblade scared the daylights out of him!"

2D's face had turned horrifically pale. His mouth was still frozen in a friendly smile, but I could see the hairs rising on the back of his neck and feel the bruising force of his grip. From the far-away look in his eyes, I got the sense he had been flung into a memory, and if his friends' musings were anything to go by, this particular memory wasn't a pleasant one.

I needed to get him some space before he snapped.

"Hey, I think I left my phone in our car," I announced. Turning to 2D, I added, "could you come and get it with me?" I tugged my arm, hoping to shake him enough from his reverie to gain a lucid response.

2D slid his gaze towards me slowly, his eyes distant. "Um… Y-Yeah. Let's get outside…"

I turned to 2D's friends. "We won't be long, just wait in here for us."

Curious eyes regarded us before turning away, rejoining the conversation about the mysterious green man who had picked a fight with 2D twenty years ago…

As soon as we had escaped the bar, 2D's hand let go of my wrist. His knees buckled. He fell against the rough brick wall and slid to the ground.

"2D!" I crouched beside the man, watching him press his hands to his head and curl his fingers into his hair. "2D, what's going on?"

The bar door opened. I looked up sharply, only to sigh with relief when Russel appeared with a face full of worry. "Hey, Noods, what's up with 'D?"

"I'm not sure." I raised my fingers to one of 2D's wrists, feeling his pulse race beneath clammy skin. "I think the conversation in the bar triggered a bad memory, and he's having trouble processing it."

Russel's gaze darkened. "You mean the conversation about the smelly green man who beat him up?" A flash of anger lit Russel's face. "I don't know about you, but a certain bassist popped into my head when I heard that description. I have a bad feeling about this, Noodle."

As Russel crouched next to us, I continued trying to soothe the fallen singer. "Hey, 2D, it's all right. Just talk to me. We can work out whatever's running through your head."

I tried to place a hand on his cheek, but he shifted his hands to cover his face, shaking his head furiously. "N-n-nooo…" He moaned, his voice weak and keening. "D-don't… hurt… face h-hurts… stop…"

I frowned. "2D, what's wrong with your face? What hurts?"

I could see tears slipping between his fingers. "He k-keeps p-p-punching me… He's hurting me… He's g-going to hurt me f-f-forever, and I just want him to s-s-stop!"

"Shhh," I tried to soothe him. "Nobody's hurting you now, 2D. You're safe. I promise you're safe."

A broken, childlike sob cracked in his throat. "M-m-make h-him s-s-stop!"

It was like he couldn't even hear me… Shutting out the pain in my own mind, I tried to think back. What helped 2D the most when he was stuck in his mood swings? Talking with him worked well when he was calm enough to be talked down, but 2D's current hysteria made that impossible. What could I do?

With a start, I remembered the first night we had spent with the Pots, when the sound of his mother speaking his name had broken through one of 2D's angry trances. I took a deep breath, steadying my lungs, and mustered the most soothing voice I could manage. "Stuart?"

2D's breathing hitched.

The singer continued to shake violently, but his sobs paused. Slowly, his hands drew back from his face, and he looked towards me with ruddy, pink-rimmed eyes. "N-n-noodle?"

I smiled softly. "Can you tell me what's going on, 2D… Stuart… What's going on in your head?" extending a comforting hand to his knee, I gently asked, "Is this about Mur–"

"Paula," he murmured.

Russel raised an eyebrow. "Paula?" he echoed.

2D looked up, beyond Russel and me. "Paula?" he repeated.

Feeling suddenly cold, I turned to follow 2D's gaze…

Standing on the pavement a few feet away, a dark-haired woman stared at us in alarm.

I'd never met her, but I'd seen the photos. I'd heard the stories.

It was Paula.

. . .

 **Coming Up Next: Paula? What's she doing here? I didn't invite her to the party!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14: Dealings with Devils**

"Paula." Russel's posture went rigid. "What are you doing here?"

The woman looked down at the three of us crouched on the pavement. She was frozen in place, apparently startled by our appearance. "I'd… heard you were back in town…" Her gaze turned to 2D, who was still trembling from his latest panic attack and staring up at her with wide eyes while heavy, strained breaths rasped from his lungs. As Paula focused on her ex, my hand instinctively tightened over 2D's shoulder – for some reason, Paula's attention was making me feel protective. A slight frown tugging her mouth, Paula asked, "What's wrong with Stuart?"

Russel's weight shifted, as if to block 2D from view – he must be feeling unsettled by Paula's attention as well. I recalled a story I'd been told about how angry Russel had been when Paula cheated on 2D – he had broken Murdoc's nose over it. Now, Russel's gaze was dark. "This doesn't concern you," He grumbled. "You should leave."

Noticing Russel's aggression, Paula scowled, straightening up and glaring down at him, all traces of surprise replaced by stubbornness. "No. I'd like to know what's going on."

An angry retort seemed to be on the tip of Russel's tongue, but 2D's weak voice cut through the air.

"Wait… Paula…" 2D looked at her intently. Despite his trembling, his black eyes were sharp. "You're not just here to catch up," he stated, his eyebrows dipping. "There's something important on your mind. Something about me… You're nervous..."

An eyebrow shot up on Paula's face. "You're awfully coherent today, Stuart."

2D tilted his head, his face growing serious. "What do you know about my condition?"

The hairs on the back of my neck rose as it occurred to me… Paula was around before 2D met Murdoc. She was around when he first began taking his pills. If anyone knows something about how Murdoc got those sketchy meds…

Paula's shrewd glare broke for a moment as she glanced nervously over the street. "If you're thinking straight… Does this mean you're off those pills? Or have you just gotten used to them?"

"You knew." 2D's eyes widened. "You knew they weren't regular pills."

"Are you off the pills?" She asked again, a note of urgency in her voice.

"Paula, stay out of our business!" Russel snarled.

2D grabbed Russel's shoulder. Russel turned a confused glance to the singer, but the blue-haired man's eyes remained fixed on Paula. "Why does seeing me like this make you so nervous?" 2D's voice misted. "You've got almost as much fear as curiosity in your eyes."

Once more, Paula glanced nervously at the street. I could tell she was deeply agitated by something. Her eyes skimmed the block's dark corners as if she feared she were being watched...

It was the same way I'd nervously checked the streets in Manchester.

"You know about the Pill Thieves, don't you?" I accused.

Paula shifted on her feet, tugging at her collar as if heated uncomfortably by our stares. "The Pill Thieves?"

I couldn't tell if she was feigning confusion or she truly didn't recognize what I was talking about – we had, after all, made up the title "The Pill Thieves" with Dr. Khalan. "I'm talking about the group of people who are interested in 2D and his pills. They've been stalking us ever since he went through withdrawal." I hoped my bandmates wouldn't mind me disclosing our situation to Paula – as uncomfortable as she was making me feel, we needed to convince her to tell us what she knew, and she would probably be more willing to share if we gave her the same courtesy.

Paula squinted, biting her lip. There was definitely recognition on her face now, and conflict. Finally, she responded, "You call them the Pill Thieves?"

I nodded.

Russel growled at her. "What would you call them?"

The last dregs of her reluctance breaking down, Paula sighed, shook her head, and muttered, "If we're thinking of the same people, these are the Pill _Suppliers."_

. . .

It was a lovely, sunny day, and I, Paula Cracker, was _furious._

Why was I furious?

My lover, the intelligent and sexy Stuart Pot, has _disappeared._

My heels clacked angrily against the pavement as I recollected the circumstance of my man's departure.

No call, no note, not a single "goodbye" or "see-you-later." One day, he's lying comatose in the hospital, unresponsive but as sexy as ever, right where he should be for evening visitation. The next, I learn that his daytime caregiver hadn't returned him to the hospital because Stuart had woken up feeling great and rushed off to join a band.

 _Hell. No._

After all the effort I poured into this relationship, I wasn't about to let my lover go gallivanting off into some dead-end musical experiment. His parents may be willing to let Stuart do as he pleases, but we had made _plans_ for our life together, and a major part of our plans was that I WAS THERE.

Besides…

I had suspicions about that daytime caregiver.

I hadn't seen him, but I'd heard that this man, the same man who had plunged wheels-first into the piano shop and knocked Stu into oblivion in the first place, looked awfully similar Mr. Rotting Corpse who'd caused trouble for us at the Tipsy Terrier. That man was up to no good. I didn't put kidnapping past him. In fact, I wasn't convinced by the report which referred to the car crash as an "accident." I may not be as smart as Stu, but I'm clever enough to know that if this guy is who I think he is, he had motivation to hurt Stu on purpose. Furthermore, Stuart had mentioned having a bad feeling about that green man after we'd met him. After months of hanging around Stu, I knew better than to bet against his stellar judgement.

Hot sunshine burned my shoulders as I pulled a newspaper clipping out of my pocket. I squinted at the fine print on the frayed paper:

 _NEW BAND SEEKING MEMBERS!_

 _Guitar & Drums Needed!_

 _Interested parties should visit 638 Iris Ln., Surrey, and ask to speak to Murdoc Niccals, band leader extraordinaire._

 _NO HIPPIES._

I scanned the street, counting the numbers on crumbling brick townhouses. _632… 634… 636…_

638.

This was it.

I channeled my inner fury into my thumb as I jammed it into the door buzzer. Hearing nothing from inside, I irately pounded my fist against the door.

Footsteps sounded within. Moments later, the door swung open.

"GREETINGS!" An overenthusiastic grin plastered over a sickly green tan materialized in front of me. "I take it you've come to audition for my new ba –"

 _POW_!

"AUGH! Sh-!" The green man staggered backwards, cursing. Blood rained from his nose. "What in Satan's name are you playing at?"

Pulling back my now-bloody fist, I crossed my arms and smiled, feeling warm satisfaction at the pain the man was in. "I'm here to retrieve my boyfriend and pulverize the worm who kidnapped him." I tilted my head with a falsely sweet grin. "You wouldn't have happened to see a pasty green lowlife dragging around a recent car-accident patient, have you? I've been trying to catch up with him for some time."

"Wait a minute…" His eyes lit up with recognition. "I know you! You're mole-face, from the pub!"

 _POW!_

"OW! WOULD YOU BLOODY QUIT THAT?"

I marched past the man swearing on the floor, both hands covering his profusely bleeding face. "Stuart! Are you in here?"

I made my way to a room with a broken TV and a shabby couch. Lying on the worn furniture, I found Stuart, limbs splayed limply over the cushions and sexy, blue hair ruffled and bedraggled. I grimaced when I noticed dark circles lining his closed eyes, and my stomach churned at the sight of the bruises on his face and bare arms.

He looked more injured than the last time I'd seen him at the hospital!

I growled, feeling protective rage burning through me at the sight of my battered lover. His _caregiver_ was going to have hell to pay.

I crouched down and shook Stuart's shoulder, hoping that, if nothing else, what I'd heard about him waking from his coma wasn't a lie. "Wake up, Stu," I urged. Relief flooded through me as he stirred and groaned.

He blinked towards me…

Goosebumps pricked my flesh.

His once-blue eyes were pools of red and black.

"Holy hell! Stu, what happened to your eyes?"

I wondered for a moment if he'd gone blind – his stare was perfectly blank, unrecognizing, and his eyes couldn't seem to focus on me. Then, his face lit up. "Paula? Paula, you're here!" He rolled towards me, opening his arms for a hug, then yelped as he fell of the couch. He lay on the floor for a moment, a dazed look on his bruised face, before slowly forming a fresh grin. "Paula! Did you come to join Murdoc's band?"

His head lolled as he smiled blithely, eyes unfocused, movements clumsy and uncoordinated…

"Dammit, Stu, are you high?"

He tilted his head, confused. "No, I'm looow… I'm down here! Can't you see me?" We waved his arms over his head.

When we got back to my place, he would be in _so. much. trouble._

Teeth grinding in frustration, I hauled the unbalanced man to his feet. "Come on, I'm getting you out of this dump. Now."

Stuart swayed before falling onto my shoulder. "But… uh… M-Murdoc says I'm not allowed to leave… _Eep!"_

He yelped again as I smacked his hand. "Are you gonna listen to gangrene face, or are you going to go home with your girlfriend?"

Suddenly, Stuart's joyful expression shifted, eyebrows furrowing as he fidgeted nervously. "P-Paula, I… I d-don't think you understand…"

"You're not going anywhere, lady! He's in my band, and I'm the one who's got his pain medication!"

Murdoc appeared between me and the room's exit, dried blood crusting over his ugly scowl.

"I think you've been giving him a little _too much_ pain medication," I sneered, feeling the ungainly weight of my lover shifting against my side. "You can expect a lawsuit from us later. In the meantime, I'm taking Stu home."

The man stepped closer, stiffening his shoulders as if trying to appear broad and menacing. "Didn't you hear me? That's not going to happen!"

I straightened my spine, balling my hand that wasn't busy propping up Stuart into a fist. "Oh yeah? Why not?"

"Paula…" Stuart wore a disconcerting look of fear that I had never seen on him before. "M-Murdoc will cut me off from my p-pills if I do anything bad…"

"That's ridiculous," I sniped, distantly wondering why Stuart, arguably one of the most confident people I knew, was suddenly so hesitant. "We'll get the doctor's order forwarded to me, or to your parents. There's no reason this _scumbag_ should be allowed to give you your meds." I scowled at Murdoc in disgust. This walking trashcan shouldn't be allowed to take care of an ant farm, let alone a person.

Murdoc's mouth curled into a devilish smirk – I felt cold stirring in my chest. Somehow, I got the sense that he had a trick up his sleeve. Frustration sparked within me as I felt Stuart trembling at my side – He should be helping me figure out corpse-man, but _no_ , he just had to get _high_ today!

"The idiot's right," Murdoc sneered. "You can only get those pills he's on through me. Doctor's don't know the first thing about them."

My fist tightened. "Are you saying his pills aren't even a real prescription?"

"They're not a traditional prescription," he admitted with a shrug, his eyes gleaming. "But that doesn't mean he doesn't _need_ them."

 _CRUNCH!_

This time, Murdoc barely managed to flinch out of the way before my fist flew past him. My knuckles throbbed as I pulled my hand out of a fresh hole in the drywall. I thought I heard a rat's terrified squee as I bared my teeth at the skulking man. "What kind of sketchy, illegal drugs have you been giving Stuart?"

"Hey, hey, don't get all fussy!" Murdoc huffed. "The pills he's on are perfectly safe; he just needs a bit of _extra_ strength because he's _extra_ messed up!"

"What kind of idiot do you think I am?" I grabbed Stuart's shoulder firmly. "Stuart is leaving now, with me."

"Paula…" Stuart's voice warbled.

"He doesn't need your illegal drugs-"

"Paula…"

"And if you know what's good for you, you'll cooperate with me, or I'll send your carcass to _prison_!"

"Paula, please…"

I turned on my boyfriend, frustration crackling in my head like static. "Stuart, quit acting so pathetic and back me up!"

Stu looked scared. He took a step backwards, then yelped as his legs hit the couch, felling harshly onto the thin cushions, sniffling up at me with wet eyes…

Wait a minute…

Was my tough, confident, sexy boyfriend _crying?_

"Paula," He sobbed, dropping his gaze to my knees, "I n-n-need the pills. You… Y-you don't understand. I c-can't leave, I h-have to stay here…"

This was wrong.

I'd never seen Stuart cry under pressure. It just wasn't who he was. When he got into a tough situation, he thought through it, and he never failed to find a solution. Faced with an opponent, he would look into their eyes and smile because he could read their weaknesses as easily as if they'd been written in bold.

He didn't _tremble._

He didn't _fall apart._

I shook my head, as if I could force the voices telling me _something is very wrong with him_ into silence. Scowling as if I felt angry instead of sick to my stomach, I growled, "Stuart, if you don't start making sense and follow me out that door right now – "

"Y'know," Murdoc interjected casually, "if the man wants to stay, then you taking him would be kidnapping."

I turned on the green man. "It's not kidnapping. He's _mine_. He wants to come with me, he just doesn't realize it yet."

Murdoc gave a sinister smile. "Hey, 2D. You want to stay here with me, right?"

 _2D?_ I looked at Stuart in confusion. Stuart looked at his toes. "Yes, Murdoc."

 _What?_

"And if this lady takes you away, you'll scream, and tell everyone she's trying to kidnap you?"

"Yes, Murdoc."

" _Stuart!?"_

"And if we went to court, or had to talk to police, you'd tell them that you like staying with your old pal Mudsy, and that this _angry, jealous_ woman is your ex who wants to make you suffer?"

The trembling man's voice fell from his mouth in a broken whimper. "Yes, Murdoc."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "Stuart, what the hell?"

"He doesn't answer to Stuart anymore. His name is 2D. Isn't that right buddy?"

"Yes, Murdoc." Stuart refused to meet my eyes. Tears fell on the carpet by his feet.

Murdoc tutted, leering at me. "Well, I'm afraid your little mission might not have the law's approval. I'd suggest you leave before _I_ call the police and tell them that 2D's ex has been giving him trouble."

"w-w-WAIT!"

My breath hitched with pain when Stuart's fingers dug frantically into my arm. He still wasn't looking at me, but his desperate gaze searched the green man imploringly. "P-please don't send her away! Sh-sh-she can help us! She plays guitar! D-Didn't you w-w-want someone who c-could play guitar? P-Please?"

Stuart sounded pathetic.

Murdoc quirked an eyebrow, gaze flickering to me with interest. "You play?"

"Yeah," I growled. "What's it to you?"

"Any good?" He pressed, a smirk curling at the corner of his lips.

My eyes narrowed haughtily, cool pride swirling in my gut. "Plenty good."

Murdoc grinned evilly. "Then how 'bout sticking around for an audition?"

I felt anger course through me. It wasn't enough that this lowlife had kidnapped my boyfriend; now he thought he could get me under his thumb too?

But then I heard Stuart mumbling into my shoulder. "Please don't leave me… D-don't leave me alone with him… I n-n-need you... Please."

The angry light blazing behind my eyes seemed to grow dim...

People might tell you that I only care about myself, but I had always had a soft spot for Stu.

. . .

I stayed.

We found a studio and a drummer. We wrote songs. We practiced.

I didn't have much contact with my old friends; Murdoc didn't approve of us taking time off. My only company now was Murdoc, the drummer, and my boyfriend. Not that my boyfriend even acted like Stuart anymore…

"Alright, dullard. Time to take your pills."

I sighed. As I heard the green man's rough voice scratching in the next room over, I could imagine Stuart – or, should I say, 2D – quivering on the couch, barely lifting his head as Murdoc's gritty fingernails pried his mouth open and dropped the dry pills inside.

"Good boy, open up…"

"Doesn't that bother you?" The drummer, Russel, asked.

We were sitting in the kitchen, picking at bowls of dry, tasteless cereal that was probably expired. I shot him a weary glance. "Doesn't _what_ bother me?"

"Muds treading 'D like a dog and callin' your man names all the time. Y'know, 'dullard,' 'faceache,' 'dents.'" His gaze was curious and a bit disapproving. "It makes me sad for his sake. Being his girlfriend and all, I'm surprised by how little you do about it."

I grimaced. "It's hard to be mad when Murdoc's right. 2D's an idiot."

"He's _your_ idiot though, isn't he?"

I huffed. "Pretty sure Murdoc would dispute that claim. We're all _his_ property, remember?"

Russel shook his head. "Well, at least you stuck around to look after the poor guy," He grumbled, glowering at his bowl. Abruptly rising from his chair, he announced, "I'm gonna go get some groceries. I'm tired of this dry cereal."

After Russel left, I wandered into the living room. Murdoc had disappeared, leaving 2D alone. My lover was sprawled on the couch, gazing listlessly at nothing, stoned out of his mind. As much as it disgusted me to see him so vacant, this was worlds better than the night before…

Despite his medicine, he had somehow gotten a headache. As he had twisted and turned on the bed we shared, I had grit my teeth and buried my head in a pillow, trying to block out his keening moans. I had half a mind to sleep in another room when arms weaved tightly around me, fingers clinging desperately to my ribs as if I were the liferaft that would float him out of his personal sea of agony. His chin found its way to my shoulder and his whimpers flew directly through my ear. As I drifted into restless sleep, his bleats of pain warped my dreams into red-tinted nightmares...

"Paula?"

Shaking my head to banish the memory of the night before, I met the dark eyes sliding my way and forced a smirk. "So, you're well enough to talk to me today? Feeling alright?"

He smiled vacantly. "I feel… floooaty…" He shifted on the couch, his limbs dragging like lead as he painstakingly made room. "Sit with me. I like it when you sit with me."

I sat. The man shifted again, lurching to pull his body against mine, leaning heavily into my side. I held back a wince when his ungainly head swung towards me with faltering coordination. His lips met my cheek, warm spit trailing after a sloppy kiss before gravity toppled the man down, his head resting in my lap. I wiped a sleeve over my face.

"I'm glad you're here, Paula."

His hand was tangled pathetically in the hem of my shirt, just as it had been on the day he had begged me to stay. Today, his gaze held none of that day's panic. His unfocused eyes seemed to be growing glassier by the second.

"I'm so glad… You've stayed with me…"

Trusting eyes closed as he turned his face into the warmth of my thigh. A deep sigh flew from his mouth as his body relaxed and he sunk into a drug-induced stupor.

With his eyes closed, I could almost imagine that the past few months had never happened.

Slowly, I rested a hand in his hair… Blue, spiky hair that I had always found devastatingly attractive. I loved his hair. I also loved his sharp eyes and intelligent smile. I loved that focused look he would get when he read people, and I trembled at the memory of how he made me feel when those shrewd eyes turned my way…

When his smile held me in place while he dove into my mind…

When he breathed poetic words into my ear while coordinated hands crept over my body…

When his confident movements promised so much excitement, pushed me to my limits…

I could feel his warm drool seeping through my pantleg.

I looked down at him. Prone. Stoned. Weak and completely helpless. My fingers crept through his hair.

"You used to really be something, Stu."

The man slept on while I fondled a soft blue lock.

"You were everything I wanted." Successful, exciting, attractive… I used to imagine how he'd take my hand and sprint with me into the incredible future we'd planned, where we never lacked fortune and adventure, and constantly pushed each other to new levels of success and passion…

"You knew that I expected a lot from you, and you embraced it." It was true. I'd made it no secret that I expected him to provide for me, both financially and otherwise. Every time I reminded him of how disappointed I would be if he fell short of my expectations, his eyes lit up in excitement. He would smirk and tell me how he loved the way I pushed him, how he craved the challenge… How he craved me…

 _He would touch me as he swore he would please me, whispering promises into my lips as long fingers slid down my neck and to my chest, warmth spreading everywhere…_

Now, all he craved were those stupid pills.

"Look at you now."

Yeah, he still liked me. But he didn't _burn_ anymore. There was no excitement, no drive. Just this pitiful, whimpering man who squirmed under the devil's heel and licked his boots for drugs.

I loved him.

I _had_ loved him…

I was disgusted by him.

"I never wanted to be with a pathetic man like this."

"Then it's a good thing you've got better options, love."

I jumped.

Leering around the corner of a doorframe, Murdoc appeared, face green and grinning shiftily.

My hand furled into a fist in Stuart's hair. "Get lost, scumbag. I don't care for your company."

He chuckled, strolling into the room. "You know, something clicked just now. I think I've got you figured out."

"What's there to figure out?" I shot back. "Nothings changed lately. I'm still a chick stuck to a stoned boyfriend with no other friends to turn to."

"I know why you're still here."

I grimaced. "Yeah, like I said, no friends to turn to. And you've got something that's mine," I said, gesturing to the singer in my lap.

"None of that's keeping you here," The green man insisted, stepping closer. "You could leave in a heartbeat. Ditch bluey, go to some bar, sleep with a bloke, stay at his house and never come back. And yet, you stay."

I squinted as he stepped in front of me. "What're you getting at?"

He smiled sweetly. "You believe in my band."

I huffed. "You think I'm sticking around because I like our stupid songs? You think I'm that in love with the power of music?" I pouted sarcastically. "Yeah, the beauty of what we're creating just makes me want to swoon into your smelly arms –"

 _SLAM!_

Hands hit the couch, slamming at either side of my face with enough force to shove the furniture backwards. Musty breath spewed hotly into my face. "Not our sodding music. You believe in _success._ You know I have what it takes. You know my band can get you all the excitement and fame you could ever dream of." I tried not to let my shock show as he leaned closer to my face, his eyes boring into mine. "That's why you were with the Dullard, right? The first time I met him, he looked like a guy who was going somewhere. Now, he's a pathetic pawn, and you can't stand him. But your ticket to everything you want – everything you know you deserve – is _still. Right. Here."_

His face was close, too close, to mine. I didn't react. I held my ground. "Are you trying to make a pass at me?"

Murdoc smirked. "A pass of sorts. Actually, I'd like to let you in on a secret of mine. Maybe make you an offer, if you're game."

He stepped back. I became suddenly aware of how fast my heart was beating…

I glanced down at 2D, still in my lap. Still asleep.

Murdoc was ambling towards the entrance of the studio. "I'm off to collect a package. Come with?"

My hand felt frozen in 2D's hair. What the hell was going on?

What was this jerk playing at?

I felt angry. And I felt…

Fire.

I'd been out of the loop for too long, and I'd be damned if I didn't take every opportunity to claw into a position where I had more control over my life.

If Murdoc wanted to let me in on a secret of his, I'd let him.

I rose from the couch, dropping 2D's head limply onto the cushions as I followed our leader out of the room.

. . .

He led me out the front doors of Kong Studio.

A man was waiting there, leaning idly against the side of the building while his shifty eyes surveyed the ragged hillside. A large cardboard box was tucked under his arm.

Murdoc grinned. "Ah, you're here!"

Without turning his head, the mysterious man's eyes regarded me coldly. "Who's the bird?"

"A member of my band!" Murdoc said cheerfully, dropping a sickly green hand onto my shoulder. "This is Paula, my guitarist."

The man's eyes narrowed. "These exchanges are supposed to be private."

Murdoc rolled his eyes. "Oh, lighten up! We all want the same thing. Trust me, you don't need to worry about her."

The mysterious man's composure didn't soften. As his glare cut into me, I felt chills creeping over my spine. I had a bad feeling about this dude.

Eventually, the man's eyes left me and lit on Murdoc. "Is the target still taking his pills regularly?"

Murdoc nodded. "Yup, he can't get enough of them!"

"Has his behavior changed at all?"

"He's as dull as ever, never puts up a fight."

The man nodded. He passed his cardboard package to Murdoc. "Good. This supply should last you for the next three months; you know who to talk to if you need more. Stick to the regimen and let us know immediately if his behavior changes."

"Right!" Murdoc snatched the box greedily. "Back in, Paula," He commanded, leading the way back to the Studio. Glancing back, I saw the mystery man approach a black car at the bottom of the hill before the front door closed and shut him from view.

"Well!" Murdoc cackled, smiling wickedly in my direction. "Have you got any idea who he was? Any idea what's in this box?" The bassist shook his package, rousing a chorus of tiny clacking noises.

I stared at the box, frowning. "You were talking about Stuart, weren't you? All that chat about a 'target' and pills?"

Murdoc rolled his eyes. " _2D._ You've got to call him by his band name. Trust me, he'll be better off once he forgets his old life. But, yes, he is the 'target' we were talking about. And these," he shook the box again, "are his pills. The man you just met was one of the suppliers."

I crossed my arms. "Are you finally going to tell me why you don't get Stuarts – 2D's – pills from a proper doctor?"

Murdoc set the box down. Stepping closer to me, his smile seemed to grow more sinister. "What I'm about to tell you is deadly serious, you know. And I don't plan on letting Russ or Faceache know, so this'll just be between the two of us."

I held his gaze, unwavering. "Spill it, then."

He chuckled. "I like your spirit. We could get along very well you know." He had taken another small step closer, another plunge into my personal space that sent my skin crawling. "We have a lot alike. We both want to succeed. We want power. We want excitement." I could swear his eyes were glittering. "Fortunately for us, I've made a special arrangement that will get us what we want. A deal with the devil, so to speak. Except, in this case, the devil is a bunch of shifty drug dealers."

I quirked an eyebrow, trying to come across as mildly curious while I ignored a sensation like fire ants under my skin. "You're saying that drug dealers are somehow going to be the key to this band's success?"

He laughed. "It's a bit more complicated than that. Let me explain…

"A couple months back, I was looking after Dents. You know what happened: I rammed into the piano store, knocked one of his eyes black, and left him in a coma. The court insisted that I be the one to take care of his sodding carcass as some sort of bloody community service sentence. That didn't stop me, though. I was working on building up a smashing band, and I'd gotten this idea that once the dullard woke up, maybe whatever pain medicine the doctors stuffed him with would make him loopy enough to write some tunes for me.

"Word got out that I was trying to form a band, and that I might have some genuine talent on my hands. One day, I was approached by a sly chick who told me she had an idea to help my band take off. Said she knew some people who could make a deal to provide me with some sort of sponsorship if I did them a favor. Ever the opportunist, I followed her, and ended up in a sketchy building full of scary people who all looked like they could hurt me. They treated me real nice, though. Buttered me up. Shared a meal. Then we talked…

"They said they were a group that made and sold a new wonder-drug, some sort of funky concoction that made people more… _malleable_. Their product wasn't necessarily legal, and they weren't too bothered with making it legal since they knew their main clientele would be people who wanted to crush their enemies or something. Anyway, they had this marketing plan. They wanted to get someone famous using their drugs so that when they sold to people, they'd have an example of just how thoroughly their product wrecked people's brains. They'd heard about my situation – apparently I'd complained to an agent of theirs one night at a bar about how much I needed to be able to control dent-head if I was going to make my band a success. The druggies wanted to sponsor me! They wanted to make 2D their big example of how well their drug worked! They agreed that, if I made dents take their silly drugs, I'd have a docile little slave on my hands. He'd need the pills, and he'd do whatever I asked to get them! And then they said they'd throw in a stipend for some good equipment and ads to recruit more band members!"

Murdoc's smile was scarily radiant, hot energy seeming to spark out of his excited gestures. "I've got a whole gang of drug dealers paying to make this band great, and all I have to do is keep giving 2D those pretty little pills!" He gazed at me expectantly, eyes bright. "You see what this means for me? For _us?_ We're going to take the world by storm! Gorillaz is unstoppable!"

I stared at him. My stomach twisted. "Why are you sharing this with me?"

He leaned close and I held my breath. A warm palm slid against my arm, and the crawling in my skin seemed to get faster, more urgent. Long fingers wrapped around my elbow, beckoning me forward, closer, near enough to feel his silky breath misting in the air around my face. "I'm bored of being the only one in on the secret… I like the idea of having someone on top with me. Someone who understands what I want, the power I'm craving, the fame…" A hypnotic red eye gleamed, burning into my mind. "We want the same things, Paula. 2D can't give you what you want anymore. _I can_. We can share this – the excitement, the success! We can push each other to new heights of stardom. We understand each other. We could be great together." I didn't move as his warm hands crept over my shoulders, slid tenderly up my neck… "Be my confidant. Be my _lover_. I can give you the world, Paula; you just need to give yourself to me."

His face was close, so close, his crumpled nose touched mine –

"No."

His brows scrunched over his eyes. "What?"

I took a step back. His nails chafed roughly against my neck as I pulled out of his grasp. I gripped my elbows to prevent my hands from shaking. "Being involved with this band was bad enough before I knew we were being managed by a drug ring."

Murdoc shook his head fervently. "The druggies aren't _managing_ us, they're _helping_ us! Listen, I didn't let you in on this secret so you'd get all worried about this band's management – I wanted to prove to you that this band is going to be a success!" His grin was manic. "I've got everything figured out! Nothing can stop me! Nothing can stop _us!_ " He gripped my shoulders roughly "I know you want this! Success, power, fame –"

"I WANT TO BE IN CONTROL OF MY OWN LIFE!" I screamed.

Murdoc gaped at me. "Paula –!"

"Save it!" I turned away, breaking his grasp, my heartbeat skittering frantically. "I can't do this anymore. I'm packing my things and leaving."

"Wait! You can't leave!"

"WATCH ME!"

SLAM.

I gasped as I was shoved into the wall, sharp pain springing in my back as rigid hands forced my shoulder blades to grate against the hard surface. Murdoc's eyes were wild, his sharp teeth were bared. "You. Can't. Leave."

I was frozen under a gaze full of hellfire.

"Are you really going to abandon your shot at success just 'cause you're scared of a little drug deal?" He growled, nails burrowing into my shoulders. "Don't you understand? This is how life WORKS! You have to take every chance you get, even if it means _selling your soul_ , to get what you want! _To reach your dream_! If you can't play the devil's game, you'll never amount to _anything_! _Is that what you want_?"

His grip was painful. He reeked of anger and madness… and desperation.

I took a deep breath. "Get off me."

He snarled. "If you leave… You won't be able to come crawling back when you realize what a huge mistake you've made. I'll find a better guitarist, one who'll put you to shame. And I'll make everyone hate you. I'll… I'll tell them you cheated on 2D. With _me._ Everyone who worships this band will curse your name."

I grit my teeth. "Get. _Off._ "

For a moment, he just stared at me.

Then he shoved himself away. His face disappeared as he turned his back. "Fine then. Get lost. I don't need cowards like you holding me back."

I edged away, slowly at first, then faster as I neared the end of the hall –

"Oh, and by the way… Don't be surprised if one of my suppliers tracks you down later. They won't be happy about this."

. . .

Stuart was still sleeping on the couch when I passed by the sitting room with a backpack and my guitar slung over my back. The singer had an arm wrapped around a musty-looking gray pillow. The dirty object was pressed into his chest, held tight just like Stuart held me on the nights we would share, when I would drift to sleep covered in his warmth with the smell of his sweat in the air and the sound of his voice whispering lines from dreams about me…

"Paula…"

He murmured, still asleep, his brow creasing as a nightmare played out in his head. "Don't let him hurt me… I n-need you… Paula…"

"I can't help you," I whispered. Stuarts – 2D's – whimpers faded as I left the room.

. . .

I jolted awake. There was a hand pressed over my mouth.

I struggled and tried to scream, but it felt like there were multiple people holding me down. In the dark motel room, all I could make out were silhouettes, several people surrounding me, watching me, hands pressing my limbs and torso into the mattress.

Cold, paralyzing fear flowed like ice in my bloodstream. My struggling ceased. Aside from waves of uncontrollable trembling, I couldn't move.

"This is your only warning," an unfamiliar voice echoed through the air.

Cold metal pressed against my forehead.

"If you tell anyone about the pills, it will be the last thing you ever do."

I held my breath as I felt the weight of the gun pressed to my face… It felt so heavy… So heavy it might just weigh me down to hell…

The weight disappeared.

 _SLAM._

 _. . ._

When I woke up hours later, the only evidence of the encounter was a throbbing bruise on my hairline and a headache.

. . .

"This is the first time I've ever talked about what happened."

Paula had crouched in front of 2D, Russel, and I while she told her story. Loud chatter from the Tipsy Terrier guaranteed that no one would overhear us, but even so, her eyes frequently flickered over the surrounding street, unease in her gaze.

I had been rubbing 2D's back, hoping to chase away the last jitters from his panic attack, but at some point my hand had fisted into my friend's shirt. Paula's tale surprised me – I had never thought to question her apparent reason for leaving the band. It made me wonder just how many lies Murdoc had woven into our history.

Russel's eyes narrowed distrustfully. "You're saying that Murdoc kept this secret from us for twenty years, but he told _you_ about it just 'cause he wanted you to stick around and have sex with him?"

Paula huffed. "I'm taking a big risk telling you what I know. You don't have to like what I'm saying. You don't even have to believe me. But I've been looking over my shoulder for twenty years, scared that I'll find one of those _suppliers_ stalking me. I have a right to know more about what's going on now between you and them."

Russel wasn't convinced. "How do we know we can trust you?"

Paula turned to 2D. "You know I'm telling the truth."

2D's dark eyes were trained on Paula's. I saw them shimmer as they flickered from one eye to the other. "She's right…" 2D's voice sounded strangely hollow. "Everything she's told us is true. And she deserves to know what's going on."

I searched 2D's face. The lack of emotion he had displayed throughout Paula's story was disconcerting. Wasn't he upset at how she had abandoned him? Angry? Sad? If anything, 2D just looked… resigned.

Discomfort stirred in my gut like a coiling snake. I would have to talk through this with 2D later. I wouldn't let him slip back into his I-don't-want-to-feel-anything mindset. But for now, I conceded that he and Paula had a point – she was involved, and she ought to know what was going on.

"We already mentioned that 2D went through withdrawal about two weeks ago," I began, garnering my companions' attention. "Murdoc's in prison, so he didn't have a say in it. When 2D's doctor recognized the pills he'd been taking, she warned us that she'd met someone who'd been murdered after withdrawing from them."

Paula's face went pale. "So they really have killed people…" She touched a hand lightly to her hairline. " _Damn._ I was really hoping they just gave empty threats."

"I'm afraid not," I grimaced. "The first time 2D and I went out in public after his withdrawal, we ended up getting chased through Manchester by sketchy people. We escaped with the help of some friends, but after that, the pill thieves – the suppliers – were searching for us relentlessly. They even figured out where we'd been living before we went into hiding. We left Manchester a couple of days ago, hoping to put some distance between us and them so that we could relax for a while. I haven't seen them since."

Paula looked agitated. Her gaze swept the street nervously. "If the suppliers are still as active as you say, then I'm not safe, and neither are you." She rose to her feet. "I came here hoping you'd tell me that the drug chain had fallen apart, and I wouldn't have to worry about them anymore… But I shouldn't have come."

Russel also stood up, 2D and I following. "It's been a long time since you were involved with us," Russel stated. "Don't you think you're off their radar by now? They wouldn't follow you for this long."

Paula shivered. I felt a chill of my own when I saw the anxious circles drawn under her eyes. "Every now and then, I get this feeling that someone's watching me… Then I'll turn around and see someone standing on a corner, or in an alley, and they'll just stare at me for a minute before walking away." She cast us a serious look. "You're not safe just because you've left Manchester. They'll follow you wherever you go, so you'd better rethink whatever plans you've been making for the future. I'd better be on my way." With that said, she turned to walk off into the night –

"Paula."

2D's voice sung gently in the air. Paula paused, taking a step back toward us. Her expression was unreadable, but I felt a strange twinge in my chest as she faced her former lover. "What?"

2D held her gaze. I could see soft emotions painted in his expression… Somber, wistful, and a bit sad. "Thank you for telling us what happened. I really appreciate the risk you're taking."

Paula's returning frown held none of 2D's gentle warmth.

In fact, she looked frustrated… angry, even.

The woman's gaze slipped away from 2D's, flicking between me and Russel. Her eyes were cold. "Don't kid yourself that I came here to help anyone but myself. Remember that the only reason I'm not on the run with you guys right now is because I had the brains to put myself first and get out of a bad situation. Self-preservation isn't a crime; it's what people need to do to survive." 2D flinched when her cold gaze returned to him. "I don't regret leaving you behind all those years ago. No one should be asked to put theirself in harm's way for the sake of someone else." She took a step forward. "Don't forget that your life is just one life. It isn't more important than anyone else's." Gesturing towards Russel and me, she spat, "If protecting you puts people's lives in danger, then you ought to quit being selfish and _stop letting people protect you._ "

WHAM!

Paula reeled backwards. Her eyes met mine in shock. Red fluid trailed from her broken nose.

My fist was extended in front of me, hot with blood and anger. My ears were ringing.

I must have taken a step forward, because the next thing I knew, my face was inches from hers, dyed in the red haze that had crept into the edges of my vision. "As motivational as your speech is –" I was grimly pleased by the cold calm in my voice. "– I think you need to shut up and leave."

She took a step backwards, warily sizing up my small figure. "You know, for all these years, I almost felt guilty sometimes. Not for Stuart… For you." Her eyes narrowed. "If I'd never left Gorillaz, then a ten-year-old kid would've never got sucked into this mess." She turned until I could only see her profile. "But you're an adult now. I've given you my warning, and you can make your own decisions from here. If you want to throw your life away on a lost cause, then be my guest. But the suppliers will catch up to you, and if you don't give them what they want, you'll probably end up dead. They need Stuart alive for their marketing scheme. They might even need Murdoc. But you... They don't need you alive. To them, you're replaceable _._ "

 _Replaceable._

An image flashed in my mind's eye…

My own face, smiling cruelly, stained with motor oil and shooting sparks against a backdrop of blue sky and pink beach…

I wanted to punch Paula again.

Dimly, I was aware of hands fastened around my arms, holding me back.

Paula shot me one last parting glare – I thought I saw pity in the tilt of her eyebrows – and walked away.

. . .

 **I was originally planning to have a peaceful, conciliatory reunion with Paula. Then I thought, "Wouldn't it be great if Noodle punched her in the face?"**

 **Hey, I'm a peaceful person in real life. I've earned the right to use literature as a violent outlet.**

 **I really wanted to present Paula as more of a gray-area character than she's usually shown – yeah, she's still the jerk who ditched 2D, but she was driven by fear for her own well-being and future rather than lust for the Great Big Pickle.**

 **Coming Up Next: How will the band react to this new information about the Pill Thieves – or, should I say, the Suppliers? How will 2D be affected by the encounter with his Ex?**


End file.
